SMITHS 
OF  BQOK» 
'••4*  FAQ*C  AVtNUt 
WON«  MtACN.  CAUP. 


A  STRANGE,  SAD  COMEDY 


A  STRANGE,  SAD  COMEDY 


BY 


MOLLY  ELLIOT  SEAWELL 

AUTHOR  OF  "THE  SPRIGHTLY  ROMANCE  OF  MARSAC,"  "CHILDREN  OF 

DESTINY,"  "MAID  MARIAN  AND  OTHER  STORIES" 

"LITTLE  JARVIS,"  ETC. 


NEW  YORK 

THE  CENTURY  CO, 

1896 


Copyright,  1892,  by 
GODEY  PUBLISHING  Co. 

Copyright,  1896,  by 
THE  CENTURY  Co. 


All  rights  reserved 


THE   DC  VINNC  PRESS. 


A  STRANGE,  SAD  COMEDY 


2O62O04 


A   STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY 


I 


sunny  November  day,  in  1864, 
Colonel  Archibald  Corbin  sat  placidly 
reading  "The  Spectator"  in  the 
shabby  old  library  at  Corbin  Hall,  in  Virginia. 
The  Colonel  had  a  fine,  pale  old  face,  clean 
shaven,  except  for  a  bristly,  white  mustache, 
and  his  white  hair,  which  was  rather  long, 
was  combed  back  in  the  fashion  of  the  days 
when  Bulwer's  heroes  set  the  style  for  hair- 
dressing.  The  Colonel — who  was  no  more 
a  colonel  than  he  was  a  cheese-box — had  an 
invincible  placidity,  which  could  not  be  dis- 
turbed by  wars  or  rumors  of  wars.  He  had 
come  into  the  world  in  a  calm  and  judicial 
frame  of  mind,  and  meant  to  go  through  it 
and  out  of  it  calmly  and  judicially,  in  spite 
of  rude  shocks  and  upheavals. 

Everything    about    Colonel     Corbin     had 
reached  the  stage  of  genteel  shabbiness  —  a 


2  A   STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY 

shabbiness  which  is  the  exclusive  mark  of 
gentlemen.  His  dignified  frock-coat  was 
white  about  the  seams  with  much  brushing, 
and  the  tall,  old-fashioned  "  stock  "  which  sup- 
ported his  chin  was  neatly  but  obviously 
mended.  The  furniture  in  the  room  was  as 
archaic  as  the  Colonel's  coat  and  stock.  A 
square  of  rag  carpet  covered  the  floor ;  there 
had  been  a  Brussels  carpet  once,  but  that  had 
long  since  gone  to  the  hospital  at  Richmond — 
and  the  knob  of  the  Colonel's  gold-headed  cane 
had  gone  into  the  collection-plate  at  church 
some  months  before.  For,  as  the  Colonel 
said,  with  a  sort  of  grandiose  modesty — "I 
can  give  but  little,  sir,  in  these  disjointed 
times.  But  when  I  do  give,  I  give  like  a  gen- 
tleman, sir." 

There  had  been  a  time,  not  long  before  that, 
when  he  had  been  compelled  to  "realize,"  as 
the  Virginians  euphemistically  express  it,  upon 
something  that  could  be  converted  into  cash. 
This  was  when  it  became  necessary  to  bring 
the  body  of  his  only  son,  who  had  been  killed 
early  in  the  war,  back  to  Corbin  Hall  —  and 
likewise  to  bring  the  dead  man's  twelve-year- 
old  daughter  from  the  far  South,  where  her 
mother  had  quickly  followed  her  father  across 


A   STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY  3 

the  gulf.  Even  in  that  sad  extremity,  the  Col- 
onel had  never  dreamed  of  "  realizing  "  on  the 
great  piles  of  silver  plate,  which  would,  in  those 
times,  have  commanded  instant  sale.  The 
Corbins,  who  were  perfectly  satisfied  to  have 
their  dining-room  furnished  with  some  scanty 
horsehair  sofas  and  a  few  rickety  chairs  and 
tables,  had  a  fancy  for  loading  down  rude  cup- 
boards with  enough  plate  for  a  great  estab- 
lishment, according  to  a  provincial  fashion  in 
Virginia.  But  instead  of  this,  the  Colonel  sacri- 
ficed a  fine  threshing-machine  and  some  of  his 
best  stock  without  a  qualm.  The  Colonel  had 
borne  all  this,  and  much  more, —  and  the 
rare,  salt  tears  had  worn  little  furrows  in  his 
cheeks, — but  he  was  still  calm,  still  composed, 
under  all  circumstances. 

The  sun  had  just  marked  twelve  o'clock  on 
the  old  sun-dial  in  the  garden,  when  the  Col- 
onel, happening  to  glance  up,  saw  Aunt  Tulip, 
the  dairymaid,  streaking  past  the  window, 
with  her  petticoat  over  her  head,  followed  by 
Nancy,  the  scullion,  by  little  Patsy  Jane,  who 
picked  up  chips  for  the  kitchen  fire,  by  Tom 
Battercake,  whose  mission  in  life  was  indicated 
by  his  name, —  the  bringing  in  of  battercakes 
being  an  important  part  of  life  in  Virginia, — 


4  A   STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY 

and  by  Juba,  who  was  just  beginning  his  ap- 
prenticeship by  carrying  relays  of  the  eternal 
battercakes  from  the  kitchen  to  the  dining- 
room.  And  the  next  moment,  Miss  Jemima,  the 
Colonel's  sister  and  double,  actually  danced 
into  the  room  with  her  gray  curls  flying,  and 
gasped,  "  Brother,  the  Yankees  are  coming  !  " 

"  Are  they,  my  dear  Jemima?"  remarked  the 
Colonel,  rising.  "  Then  we  must  prepare  to 
meet  them  with  all  the  dignity  and  composure 
possible."  As  the  Colonel  opened  the  door, 
his  own  man,  Dad  Davy,  nearly  ran  over  him, 
blurting  out  the  startling  news,  "  Marse,  de 
Yankees  is  comin' !  "  and  the  same  information 
was  screeched  at  him  by  every  negro,  big  and 
little,  on  the  plantation  who  had  known  it  in 
time  to  make  a  bee-line  for  the  house. 

"  Disperse  to  your  usual  occupations,"  cried 
the  Colonel,  waving  his  hand  majestically. 
The  negroes  dispersed,  not  to  their  business, 
but  with  the  African's  natural  love  of  a  sensa- 
tion to  spread  the  alarm  all  over  the  place.  By 
the  time  it  got  to  the  "  quarters,"  —  the  houses 
of  the  field-hands,  farthest  away  from  "  de  gret 
house,"  —  it  was  reported  that  Dad  Davy  had 
told  Tom  Battercake  that  he  saw  Aunt  Tulip 
"  runnin'  outen  de  gret  house,  and  the  Yankees 
wuz  hol'in  er  pistol  at  ole  Marse'  hade,  and 


A   STRANGE,  SAD    COMEDY  5 

Miss  Jemima,  she  wuz  havin'  er  fit  with  nobody 
but  little  Patsy  Jane,"  etc.,  etc.,  etc.  What 
really  happened  was,  the  Colonel  walked 
calmly  out  in  the  hall,  urging  Miss  Jemima  to 
be  composed. 

"  My  dear  Jemima,  do  not  become  agitated. 
David,  you  are  an  old  fool.  Thomas  Batter- 
cake,  proceed  to  your  usual  employment  at 
this  time  of  day,  cleaning  the  knives,  or  what- 
ever it  is.  Would  you  have  these  Yankee  mis- 
creants to  think  us  a  body  of  Bedlamites  ?  " 

Just  then,  down  the  stairs  came  running 
pretty  little  twelve- year-old  Letty,  his  grand- 
daughter. Letty  seized  his  veined  and  ner- 
vous hand  in  her  two  pink  palms,  and  expressed 
a  willingness  to  die  on  the  spot  for  him. 

The  Colonel  marched  solemnly  out  on  the 
porch,  and  by  that  time,  what  seemed  to  him 
an  army  of  blue-coats  was  dashing  across  the 
lawn.  A  lieutenant  swung  himself  off  his 
horse,  and,  coming  up  the  steps,  demanded  the 
keys  of  the  barn,  in  a  brogue  that  could  be 
cut  with  a  knife. 

"  No,  sir,"  said  the  Colonel,  firmly,  his  gray 
hair  moved  slightly  by  the  autumn  wind,  "you 
may  break  open  my  barn-door,  but  I  decline 
to  surrender  the  keys." 

The    lieutenant,    at    that,    struck    a    match 


6  A    STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY 

against  the  steps,  and  a  little  point  of  flame 
was  seen  among  the  withered  tendrils  of  the 
Virginia  creeper  that  clung  to  the  wooden 
pillars  of  the  porch. 

"  Now,  will  you  give  up  those  keys,  you 
obstinate  ould  ribil  ? "  asked  the  lieutenant, 
fiercely. 

"  No !  "  responded  the  Colonel,  quite  un- 
moved. "The  term  that  you  apply  to  me  is 
the  one  that  was  borne  with  honor  by  the 
Father  of  his  country.  Moreover,  from  your 
accent,  which  I  may  be  permitted  to  observe, 
sir,  is  grotesque  to  the  last  degree,  I  surmise 
that  you  yourself  may  be  a  rebel  to  Her 
Majesty,  Queen  Victoria,  for  certainly  there 
is  nothing  American  about  you." 

At  this,  a  general  snicker  went  around 
among  the  enemy,  for  discipline  was  not  very 
well  observed  between  officers  and  men  in 
those  days.  Then,  half  a  dozen  cavalrymen 
dropped  off  their  horses  and  made  for  the 
well,  whence  they  returned  in  a  twinkling 
with  water  to  put  out  the  fire  that  had  be- 
gun to  crackle  ominously.  The  Colonel  had 
not  turned  a  hair,  although  Miss  Jemima  be- 
hind him  and  Letty  had  clung  together  with 
a  faint  cry. 


A   STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY  7 

The  lieutenant  rode  off  in  the  direction  of 
the  barn,  ordering  most  of  the  men  to  follow 
him.  Wagons  were  then  seen  coming  down 
the  lane,  and  going  toward  the  barn  to  cart 
off  the  Colonel's  corn  and  wheat.  The  sym- 
pathies of  those  who  were  left  behind  were 
plainly  with  the  Colonel.  Especially  was  this 
so  with  a  tall,  lanky,  grizzled  sergeant,  who 
had  been  the  first  man  to  put  out  the  fire. 

"  I  am  much  obliged  to  you,  my  good  man," 
said  Colonel  Corbin,  loftily,  "  for  your  efforts 
in  extinguishing  the  flames  started  by  that 
person,  who  appears  to  be  in  command." 

"You  're  welcome,"  answered  the  lanky  ser- 
geant, with  the  easy  familiarity  of  the  rural 
New-Englander. 

The  lieutenant  had  showed  unmistakably 
the  bullying  resentment  of  a  peasant  brought 
face  to  face  with  a  gentleman,  but  the  lanky 
sergeant  indirectly  felt  some  subtile  sympathy 
with  a  spirit  as  independent  as  his  own. 

"  I  am  glad,  brother,"  said  Miss  Jemima, 
"that  these  men  who  are  left  to  guard  us  are 
plainly  Americans.  They  will  be  more  hu- 
mane than  foreigners." 

"Vastly  more  so,"  answered  the  Colonel, 
calmly  watching  the  loading  of  his  crops  upon 


8  A   STRANGE,  SAD    COMEDY 

the  wagons  in  the  distance.  "There  is,  par- 
ticularly in  New  England,  a  sturdy  yeomanry, 
such  as  our  friend  here  belongs  to,"  indicating 
the  sergeant,  "which  really  represents  an  ad- 
mirable type  of  man." 

"Gosh,"  exclaimed  the  sergeant,  in  admira- 
tion, "  it  's  the  durndest,  gamest  thing  I  ever 
see,  you  standin'  up  here  as  cool  as  a  cucum- 
ber, when  your  property  's  bein'  took.  I  kin 
stand  fire  ;  my  grandfather,  he  fought  at  Lex- 
ington, and  he  did  n't  flunk  nuther,  and  I  ain't 
flunked  much.  But  I  swan,  if  you  Johnny  Rebs 
was  a-cartin'  off  my  hay  and  stuff,  I  'd  be  a  deal 
more  excited  'n  you  are.  And  my  old  woman 
— gosh  t'  almighty!" 

The  lanky  sergeant  seemed  completely  stag- 
gered by  the  contemplation  of  the  old  woman's 
probable  behavior  upon  such  an  occasion. 

"There  are  other  things,  my  friend,"  an- 
swered the  Colonel,  putting  his  hands  under 
his  coat-tails  and  turning  his  back  upon  the 
barn  in  the  distance,  "which  are  of  more  con- 
sequence, I  opine,  than  hay  and  corn.  That, 
I  think,  the  most  limited  intelligence  will 
admit." 

"That 's  so,"  responded  the  lanky  sergeant, 
"I  kin  do  a  sight  better  keepin'  bees  up  in 


A   STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY  9 

Vermont  than  down  here  in  Virginny  fightin' 
the  rebs  for  eighteen  dollars  a  month,  but  when 
Uncle  Abe  called  for  seventy-five  thousand 
men  I  could  n't  a-kep'  them  bees  another  day, 
not  if  I  had  been  makin'  two  hundred  dollars 
a  month  at  it.  When  I  heard  'bout  it,  I  kem 
in,  and  I  said  to  the  old  woman  :  '  I  Ve  got  a 
call,'  and  she  screeched  out,  'A  call  to  git  con- 
verted, Silas  ? ' — the  old  woman  's  powerful  re- 
ligious,— and  I  says,  '  No,  Sary — a  call  to  go 
and  fight  for  the  Flag.'  And  when  we  talked 
it  over,  and  remembered  about  my  grandfather, 
—  he  lived  to  be  selectman,  —  the  old  woman 
says,  '  Silas,  you  are  a  miser'bul  man,  and 
you  '11  git  killed  in  your  sins,  and  no  insurance 
on  your  life,  and  it  '11  take  all  I  kin  rake  and 
scrape  to  bring  your  body  home,  but  mebbe 
it 's  your  duty  to  fight  for  your  country.'  And 
she  said  I  might  come,  and  here  I  am,  and  the 
bees  is  goin'  to  thunder." 

"  Unfortunately  for  me,  sir,"  said  the  Colo- 
nel, with  a  faint  smile,  but  with  unabated  po- 
liteness. "  However,  I  wish  to  say  that  you 
are  pursuing  your  humble  but  unpleasant  duty 
in  a  most  gentlemanlike  manner.  For,  look 
you,  the  term  gentleman  is  comprehensive.  It 
includes  not  only  a  man  who  has  had  the  ad- 


io  A   STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY 

vantages  of  birth  and  station,  —  advantages 
which  I  may,  with  all  modesty,  claim,  as  enjoy- 
ing them  without  any  merit  of  my  own,  — but 
a  man  like  yourself,  of  honorable,  though  hum- 
ble parentage,  who  possesses  a  sturdy  inde- 
pendence of  spirit  to  which,  I  may  say,  my 
friend  with  the  violent  brogue  is  a  stranger." 

The  lanky  sergeant,  who  had  a  dry,  Puri- 
tanical humor  of  his  own,  was  immensely 
tickled  at  this,  and,  at  the  same  time,  profound- 
ly respectful  of  a  man  who  could  enter  into 
disquisitions  respecting  what  constituted  a 
gentleman  while  his  goods  were  being  confis- 
cated under  his  very  nose. 

"  I  tell  you  what,"  said  he,  becoming  quite 
friendly  and  confidential  with  the  Colonel, 
"there  's  a  fellow  with  our  command, — an 
Englishman,  —  and  he  's  got  the  same  name 
as  yours  —  Corbin  —  only  he  's  got  a  handle 
to  it.  He  is  Sir  Archibald  Corbin,  and  I  never 
see  a  young  man  so  like  an  old  one  as  he  is 
like  you.  He  just  seems  to  me  to  be  your  very 
image.  He  ain't  reg'larly  attached  nor  nothin' ; 
he  's  just  one  of  them  aide'campers.  He  might 
be  your  son.  Hain't  you  got  any  son  ?  " 

At  this,  little  Miss  Letty,  who  had  kept  in 
the  background  clinging  to  Miss  Jemima,  came 


A   STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY  11 

forward,  and  the  Colonel  put  one  arm  around 
her. 

"I  had  a  son,  —  a  noble  son,  — but  he  laid 
down  his  life  in  defense  of  his  State,  and  this 
is  his  orphan  child,"  said  he. 

The  lanky  sergeant  took  off  his  cap  and 
made  a  bow. 

"And  I  '11  be  bound,"  he  said,  with  infinite 
respect  in  his  awkwardly  familiar  manner, 
"  that  your  son  was  true  grit."  He  stopped 
and  hunted  about  in  his  mind  for  a  title  to  be- 
stow upon  the  Colonel  superior  to  the  one  he 
had,  and  finally  hit  upon  "Judge,"  to  which 
title  the  Colonel  was  as  much  entitled  as  the 
one  he  bore. 

"  Judge,  I  don't  believe  you  'd  turn  a  hair  if 
there  was  a  hundred  pieces  of  artillery  trained 
on  you.  I  believe  you  'd  just  go  on  talkin'  in 
this  'ere  highflown  way,  without  kerin'  about 
anything  except  your  dignity.  And  if  your 
son  was  like  you,  he  did  n't  have  no  skeer  in 
him  at  all,  General."  By  this  time  the  ser- 
geant had  concluded  that  the  old  gentleman 
deserved  promotion  even  from  the  title  of 
Judge.  * 

The  Colonel  inclined  his  head,  a  slight  flush 
creeping  into  his  wan  face. 


12  A   STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY 

"You  do  me  honor,"  he  said,  "but  you  do 
my  son  only  justice." 

By  this  time  the  wagons  had  been  loaded 
up  and  were  being  driven  off.  The  scared 
negroes  that  had  flocked  about  the  house  from 
all  over  the  plantation  were  peering,  with  ashy 
faces,  around  the  corners  and  over  the  garden 
fence.  The  men  were  ordered  to  fall  in,  the 
lieutenant  giving  his  orders  at  a  considerable 
distance,  and  in  his  involuntary  and  marked 
brogue.  The  lanky  sergeant  and  the  few  men 
with  him  mounted,  and  then  all  of  them,  simul- 
taneously, took  off  their  caps. 

"  Three  cheers  for  the  old  game-cock ! " 
cried  the  lanky  sergeant  enthusiastically.  The 
cheers  were  given  with  a  will  and  with  a  grin. 
The  Colonel  bowed  profoundly,  smiling  all  the 
time. 

"This  is  truly  grotesque,"  he  said.  "You 
have  just  appropriated  all  of  my  last  year's 
crops,  and  now  you  are  assuring  me  of  your 
personal  respect.  For  the  last,  I  thank  you," 
and  so,  with  cheering  and  laughter,  they  rode 
off,  leaving  the  Colonel  with  his  self-respect 
unimpaired,  but  minus  several  hundred  bushels 
of  corn  and  wheat.  The  negroes  gradually 
quieted  down,  and  the  Colonel  and  Miss  Je- 


A   STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY  13 

mima  and  little  Miss  Letty  retired  to  the 
library.  The  Colonel  took  down  his  family 
tree,  and  began  gravely  to  study  that  peren- 
nially entertaining  document  in  order  to  place 
the  Corbin  who  was  serving  as  aide-de-camp 
in  the  Union  army.  Miss  Jemima,  too,  was 
deeply  interested,  and  remarked  sagely : 

"  He  is  no  doubt  a  great-grandson  of  Ad- 
miral Sir  Archibald  Corbin,  who  adhered  to 
the  royal  cause  and  was  afterward  made  a 
baronet  by  George  III." 

At  that  very  moment,  the  Colonel  hit  upon 
him. 

"That  is  he,  my  dear  Jemima.  General 
Sir  George  Corbin,  grandson  of  the  admiral 
and  son  of  Sir  Archibald  Corbin,  second,  mar- 
ried to  the  Honorable  Evelyn  Guilford-Hope, 
has  one  son  and  heir,  Archibald,  born  May 
1 8,  1842.  His  father  must  be  dead,  and  he  has 
but  little  more  than  reached  his  majority.  Sis- 
ter, if  he  were  not  in  the  Federal  army,  I  should 
be  most  happy  to  greet  him  as  a  kinsman. 
But  I  own  to  an  adamantine  prejudice  toward 
strangers  who  dare  to  meddle  in  civil  broils.'' 

So  had  Miss  Jemima,  of  course,  who  re- 
garded the  Colonel's  prejudices  as  direct  in- 
spirations from  on  high. 


14  A   STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY 

The  very  next  week  after  the  visitation  of 
the  Federal  cavalry  came  a  descent  upon  the 
part  of  a  squad  of  Confederate  troopers.  As 
the  Colonel  and  Miss  Jemima  entertained  the 
commanding  officers  in  the  library,  with  the 
most  elaborate  courtesy  and  home-made  wine, 
the  shrill  quacking  and  squawking  of  the  ducks 
and  chickens  was  painfully  audible  as  the  hun- 
gry troopers  chased  and  captured  them.  The 
Colonel  and  Miss  Jemima,  though,  were  per- 
fectly deaf  to  the  clamor  made  by  the  poultry 
as  their  necks  were  wrung,  and  when  a  caval- 
ryman rode  past  the  window  with  one  of  Miss 
Jemima's  pet  bronze  turkeys  hanging  from  his 
saddle-bow  and  gobbling  wildly,  Miss  Jemima 
only  gave  a  faint  sigh,  and  looked  very  hard 
at  little  Miss  Letty,  who  was  about  to  shriek 
a  protest  against  such  cruelty.  Even  next 
morning  she  made  not  a  single  inquiry  as  to 
the  startling  deficit  in  the  poultry  yard.  And 
when  Aunt  Tulip  began  to  grumble  something 
about  "dem  po'  white  trash  dat  cum  ter  a  gent'- 
mun'  house,  an'  cornfuscate  he  tu'keys  settin' 
on  the  nes',"  Miss  Jemima  shut  her  up  promptly. 

"  Not  a  word,  not  a  word,  Tulip.  Confed- 
erate officers  are  welcome  to  anything  at  Cor- 
bin  Hall." 


A   STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY  15 

A  few  nights  after  that,  the  Colonel  sat  in 
the  library  looking  at  the  hickory  fire  that 
danced  up  the  chimney  and  shone  on  the 
polished  floor,  and  turned  little  Letty's  yellow 
hair  into  burnished  gold.  Suddenly  a  terrific 
knocking  resounded  at  the  door. 

In  those  strange  times  people's  hearts  some- 
times stood  still  when  there  was  a  clamor  for 
entrance ;  but  the  Colonel's  brave  old  heart 
went  on  beating  placidly.  Not  so  Dad  Davy's, 
who,  with  a  negro's  propensity  to  get  up  an 
excitement  about  everything,  exclaimed  sol- 
emnly : 

"  D'yar  dee  come  to  bu'n  de  house  over  we 
all's  hades.  I  done  dream  lars  night  'bout 
a  ole  h'yar  cotch  hade  fo'mos'  in  er  trap, 
an'  dat  's  a  sho'  sign  o'  trouble  and  distrus'- 
fulness." 

"  David,"  remarked  the  Colonel,  according 
to  custom,  "  you  are  a  fool.  Go  and  open  the 
hall  door." 

Dad  Davy  hobbled  toward  the  door  and 
opened  it.  It  was  about  dusk  on  an  autumn 
night,  and  there  was  a  weird  half-light  upon 
the  weedy  lawn,  and  the  clumps  of  gnarled 
acacias,  and  the  overgrown  carriage  drive  of 
pounded  oyster-shells.  Nor  was  there  any 


1  6  A   STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY 

light  in  the  large,  low-pitched  hall,  with  its 
hard  mahogany  sofa,  and  the  walls  ornamented 
with  riding-whips  and  old  spurs.  A  tall  and 
stalwart  figure  stood  before  the  door,  and  a 
voice  out  of  the  darkness  asked  : 

"  Is  this  the  house  of  Mr.  Archibald  Corbin, 
and  is  he  at  home  ?  " 

The  sound  of  that  voice  seemed  to  paralyze 
Dad  Davy. 

"  Lord  A'mighty,"  he  gasped,  "  't  is  Marse 
Archy's  voice.  Look  a  heah,  is  you  —  is  you 


"A  what?" 

But  without  waiting  for  an  answer  Dad 
Davy  scurried  off  for  a  moment  and  returned 
with  a  tallow  candle  in  a  tall  silver  candlestick. 
As  he  appeared,  shading  the  candle  with  one 
dusky  hand,  and  rolling  two  great  eyeballs  at 
the  newcomer,  he  was  handed  a  visiting  card. 
This  further  mystified  him,  as  he  had  never 
seen  such  an  implement  in  his  life  before  ;  he 
gazed  with  a  fixed  and  frightened  gaze  at  the 
young  man  before  him,  and  his  skin  gradually 
turned  the  ashy  hue  that  terror  produces  in  a 
negro. 

"Hi,  hi,"  he  spluttered,  "  you  is  de  spit  and 

1  A  ghost. 


A    STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY  17 

image  o'  my  young  Marse,  that  was  kilt  long 
o'  dis  lars'  year.  And  you  got  he  voice.  I 
kin  mos'  swar  you  wuz  Marse  Archy  Corbin, 
like  he  wuz  fo'  he  got  married." 

"And  my  name  is  Archibald  Corbin,  too," 
said  the  young  man,  comprehending  the 
strange  resemblance  between  himself  and  the 
dead  and  gone  Archy  that  had  so  startled  the 
old  negro.  He  poked  his  card  vigorously  into 
Dad  Davy's  hand. 

"What  I  gwine  to  do  with  this  heah?" 
asked  Dad  Davy,  eyeing  the  card  suspiciously. 

"  Take  this  card  to  your  master." 

"And  if  he  ax  me  who  k'yard  't  is,  what  I 
gwi'  tell  him  ?  " 

At  this  the  young  man  burst  out  into  a 
ringing,  full-chested  laugh.  The  negroes 
were  new  to  him,  and  ever  amusing,  and  he 
could  not  but  laugh  at  Dad  Davy's  simplicity. 
That  laugh  brought  the  Colonel  out  into  the 
hall.  He  advanced  with  a  low  bow,  which  the 
stranger  returned,  and  took  the  card  out  of 
Dad  Davy's  hand,  meanwhile  settling  his 
spectacles  carefully  on  his  nose,  and  reading 
deliberately  : 

"  Sir  Archibald  Corbin,  Fox  Court." 

The  Colonel  fixed  his  eyes  upon  his  guest, 


iS  A    STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY 

and,  like  Dad  Davy,  the  resemblance  to  the 
other  Archibald  Corbin  overcame  him  in- 
stantly. His  lips  trembled  slightly,  and  it 
was  a  moment  or  two  before  he  could  say, 
with  his  usual  blandness : 

"  I  see  you  are  Archibald  Corbin,  and  I  am 
your  kinsman,  also  Archibald  Corbin." 

"  Being  in  your  neighborhood,"  said  Sir 
Archibald,  courteously,  "  I  could  not  forbear 
doing  myself  the  pleasure  of  making  myself 
known  to  the  only  relatives  I  have  on  this  side 
of  the  water." 

There  was  something  winning  and  grace- 
ful about  him,  and  the  Colonel  was  much  sur- 
prised to  find  that  any  man  born  and  bred  out- 
side of  the  State  of  Virginia  should  have  so 
fine  an  address. 

"  It  gives  me  much  gratification,"  replied 
Colonel  Corbin,  in  his  most  imposing  bary- 
tone, "  to  acknowledge  the  relationship  exist- 
ing between  the  Corbins  of  Corbin  Hall  in 
Virginia  and  those  of  Fox  Court  in  England." 

In  saying  this  he  led  the  way  toward  the 
library,  where  two  more  tallow  dips  in  silver 
candlesticks  had  been  lighted. 

When  young  Corbin  came  within  the  circle 
of  the  fire's  red  light  —  for  the  tallow  dips  did 


A   STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY  19 

not  count — Miss  Jemima  uttered  a  faint 
scream.  This  strange  sensation  that  his  ap- 
pearance made  in  every  member  of  the  family 
rather  vexed  the  young  Englishman,  who  was 
a  robust  specimen,  and  with  nothing  uncanny 
about  him,  except  the  strange  and  uncomfor- 
table likeness  to  a  dead  man  whom  he  had 
never  seen  or  heard  of  until  that  moment. 

"  Pardon  me,"  said  the  Colonel,  after  a  mo- 
ment, in  a  choked  voice,  "but  your  resem- 
blance to  my  only  son,  who  was  killed  while 
gallantly  leading  his  regiment,  is  something 
extraordinary,  and  you  will  perhaps  under- 
stand a  father's  agitation  " —  here  two  scanty 
tears  rolled  down  upon  his  white  mustache. 
Even  little  Miss  Letty  looked  at  the  new 
comer  with  troubled  eyes  and  quivering  lips. 

Young  Corbin,  with  a  hearty  and  healthy 
desire  to  get  upon  more  comfortable  subjects 
of  discourse,  mentioned  that,  having  a  taste  for 
adventure,  he  had  come  to  America  during 
the  terrible  upheaval,  and  through  the  in- 
fluence of  friends  in  power  he  had  obtained  a 
temporary  staff  appointment,  by  which  he  was 
able  to  see  something  of  actual  warfare. 

This  statement  was  heard  in  absolute 
silence.  Young  Corbin  received  a  subtile 


20  A    STRANGE,  SAD    COMEDY 

impression  that  his  new-found  relatives  rather 
disapproved  of  him,  and  that  the  fact  that  he 
was  a  baronet  with  a  big  rent-roll,  which  had 
hitherto  brought  him  the  highest  considera- 
tion, ranked  as  nothing  with  these  primitive 
people.  Naturally,  this  was  a  stab  to  the 
self-love  of  a  young  fellow  of  twenty-two,  but 
with  the  innate  independence  of  a  man  born 
to  position  and  possessions,  he  refrained  from 
forcing  his  consequence  upon  his  relatives. 
The  Colonel  talked  learnedly  and  eloquently 
upon  the  subject  of  the  Corbins  and  their 
pedigree,  to  which  Miss  Jemima  listened  com- 
placently. Little  Miss  Letty,  though,  seemed 
to  regard  the  guest  as  a  base  intruder,  and 
glowered  viciously  upon  him,  while  she  knitted 
a  large  woolen  sock. 

Supper  was  presently  announced  by  Dad 
Davy.  There  might  be  a  rag  carpet  on  the 
floor  at  Corbin  Hall,  and  tallow  dips,  but 
there  was  sure  to  be  enough  on  the  table  to 
feed  a  regiment.  This  supper  was  the  most 
satisfactory  thing  that  young  Sir  Archy  had 
seen  yet  among  his  Virginia  relations.  There 
was  an  "  old  ham  "  cured  in  the  smoke  from 
hickory  ashes,  and  deviled  turkey  after  Miss 
Jemima's  own  recipe,  and  it  took  Tom  Batter- 


A   STRANGE,   SAD    COMEDY  21 

cake,  Black  Juba,  and  little  Patsy  Jane,  all  to- 
gether, to  bring  in  supplies  of  batter-cakes, 
to  which  the  invariable  formula  was:  "Take 
two,  and  butter  them  while  they  are  hot." 

The  Colonel  kept  up  a  steady  fusillade, 
reinforced  by  Miss  Jemima,  of  all  the  family 
history,  peculiarities,  and  what  not,  of  the 
Corbin  family.  The  Corbins  were,  to  a  man, 
the  best  judges  of  wines  in  the  State  of  Vir- 
ginia ;  they  inherited  great  capacity  for  whist; 
and  were  remarkable  for  putting  a  just  esti- 
mate upon  people,  and  inflexible  in  maintain- 
ing their  opinions.  "  Of  which,"  said  the 
Colonel,  suavely,  "I  will  give  you  an  example: 

"  My  honored  father  always  believed  that  it 
was  the  guest's  duty,  when  spending  the  night 
at  a  house,  to  make  the  motion  toward  retir- 
ing for  the  night.  My  uncle,  John  Whiting 
Corbin,  held  the  contrary.  As  both  knew 
the  other's  inflexibility  they  avoided  ever 
spending  the  night  at  each  other's  houses,  al- 
though upon  the  most  affectionate  and  bro- 
therly terms.  Upon  one  occasion,  however, 
my  uncle  was  caught  at  Corbin  Hall  by  stress 
of  weather.  The  evening  passed  pleasantly, 
but  toward  midnight  the  rest  of  the  family, 
including  my  sister  Jemima  and  myself,  re- 


22  A    STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY 

tired,  leaving  my  father  and  his  brother  amic- 
ably discussing  the  Virginia  resolutions  of  '98. 
As  the  night  wore  on  both  wished  to  retire, 
but  my  father  would  not  transgress  the  code 
of  etiquette  he  professed,  by  suggesting  bed- 
time to  his  guest,  nor  would  my  uncle  yield 
the  point  by  making  the  first  move. 

"  When,  at  daylight  the  next  morning,  my 
boy  Davy  came  in  to  make  the  fire,  here,  sir, 
in  this  library,  I  assure  you,  my  father  and 
his  brother  were  still  discussing  the  resolutions 
of  '98.  They  had  been  at  it  all  night." 

This  was  one  of  the  Colonel's  crack  stories, 
and  Sir  Archy  laughed  at  it  heartily  enough. 
But  with  all  this  studied  hospitality  toward 
himself,  he  felt  more,  every  moment,  in  spite 
of  the  Colonel's  sounding  periods,  that  he  was 
merely  tolerated,  at  best,  and  as  he  had  never 
been  snubbed  before  in  his  life,  the  experience 
did  not  please  him.  At  ten  o'clock  he  rose  to 
go,  saying  that  he  preferred  traveling  by 
night  under  the  circumstances.  The  Colonel 
invited  him  to  remain  longer,  with  careful 
politeness,  but  when  the  invitation  was  de- 
clined, no  more  was  visible  than  civil  regret. 
Nevertheless,  the  Colonel  went  himself  to  see 
that  Sir  Archy's  horse  had  been  properly  fed 


A   STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY  23 

and  rubbed  down,  and  Miss  Jemima  went  to 
fetch  a  glass  of  the  home-made  wine,  which 
nearly  choked  Sir  Archy  in  the  effort  to  gulp 
it  down.  He  was  alone  for  a  few  moments 
with  pretty  little  Letty,  who  had  not  for  a 
moment  abandoned  her  standoffish  attitude. 

"  Will  you  be  glad  to  see  me  the  next  time 
I  come,  little  cousin?"  he  asked,  mischievously. 

Here  was  a  chance  for  Letty  to  annihilate 
this  brazen  new-comer,  and  she  proceeded  to 
do  it  by  quoting  one  of  the  Colonel's  most  elab- 
orate phrases.  She  got  slightly  mixed  on  the 
word  "adamantine,"  but  still  Letty  thought  it 
sounded  very  well  when  she  remarked,  loftily, 
"  I  have  an  anti-mundane  prejudice  toward 
foreigners  meddling  in  domestic  broils."  And 
every  word  was  punctuated  by  a  scowl. 

Miss  Letty  fondly  imagined  that  the  young 
Englishman  would  be  awed  and  delighted  at 
this  prodigious  remark  in  one  so  young,  but 
when  Sir  Archy  burst  into  one  of  his  rich  and 
ringing  laughs,  Letty  promptly  realized  that 
he  was  laughing  at  her,  and  could  have  pulled 
his  hair  with  pleasure. 

Sir  Archy  was  still  laughing  and  Letty  was 
still  blushing  and  scowling  when  their  elders 
returned.  In  a  little  while  Sir  Archy  was 


24  A    STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY 

galloping  down  the  sandy  lane  at  Corbin  Hall, 
with  the  faint  lights  of  the  grim  old  house 
twinkling  far  behind  him.  It  was  an  odd  ex- 
perience, and  not  altogether  pleasing.  For 
once,  he  had  met  people  who  knew  he  was  a 
baronet,  and  who  did  not  care  for  it,  and  who 
knew  he  had  a  great  property,  and  who  did 
not  feel  the  slightest  respect  for  it.  There 
was  something  sad,  something  ludicrous,  and 
something  noble  and  disinterested  about  those 
refined,  unsophisticated  people  at  Corbin  Hall; 
and  when  that  little  sulky,  frowning  thing 
grew  up,  she  would  be  a  beauty,  Sir  Archy 
decided,  as  he  galloped  along  the  sandy  road 
through  the  moonlight  night. 


II 


summers  after  this,  the  old  Colo- 
nel and  Miss  Jemima  and  Miss  Letty 
scraped  up  money  enough  to  spend 
a  summer  in  a  cheap  boarding-house  at  New- 
port. Many  surprises  awaited  the  Colonel 
upon  his  first  visit  to  Newport  since  "  before 
the  war,  sir."  In  the  first  place,  the  money 
they  paid  for  their  plain  rooms  seemed  a  very 
imposing  sum  to  them,  and  they  were  ex- 
tremely surprised  to  find  how  small  it  was 
regarded  at  Newport. 

"  Newport,  my  dear  Jemima  and  Letty,  is 
a  more  expensive  place  than  the  White  Sul- 
phur in  its  palmiest  days,  when  it  had  a 
monopoly  of  the  chivalry  of  the  South,"  an- 
nounced the  Colonel,  oracularly. 

Letty  had  innocently  expected  a  great 
triumph,  especially  with  her  wardrobe.  She 
had  no  less  than  five  white  Swiss  muslin 
frocks,  all  tucked  and  beruffled  within  an  inch 

25 


26  A   STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY 

of  her  life,  and  she  had  also  a  lace  parasol, 
besides  one  that  had  belonged  to  her  mother, 
and  several  lace  flounces  and  a  set  of  pearls. 
This  outfit,  thought  Letty,  vain  and  proud,  was 
bound  to  make  a  sensation.  But  it  did  not. 
However,  no  matter  what  Letty  wore,  she  was 
in  no  danger  of  being  put  behind  the  door. 
First,  because  she  was  so  very,  very  pretty, 
and  second,  because  she  was  so  obviously  a 
thoroughbred,  from  the  sole  of  her  little  arched 
foot,  up  to  the  crown  of  her  delicate,  proud 
head.  And  Letty  was  so  extremely  haughty. 
But  she  soon  found  out  that  Swiss  muslin 
frocks  don't  count  at  Newport,  and  that  even  a 
Corbin  of  Corbin  Hall,  who  lodged  in  a  cheap 
place,  was  not  an  object  of  flattering  attention. 
And  the  more  neglected  she  was,  the  more 
toploftical  she  became.  So  did  the  Colonel, 
and  so  did  Miss  Jemima.  Walking  down 
Bellevue  avenue  with  the  Colonel,  Letty  would 
criticize  severely  the  stately  carriages,  the  high- 
stepping  horses  and  the  superbly  dressed 
women  and  natty  men  that  are  characteristic 
of  that  swell  drive.  But  when  a  carriage 
would  pass  with  a  crest  on  its  doors,  the  Col- 
onel's white  teeth  showed  beneath  his  mus- 
tache in  a  grim  smile. 


A   STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY  27 

"One  of  the  Popes,"  he  remarked,  with 
suave  sarcasm,  "  who  started  in  life  as  a  cob- 
bler, took  for  his  papal  arms  a  set  of  cobblers' 
tools.  But  I  perceive  no  indication  whatever, 
in  this  community  of  retired  tradespeople,  that 
they  have  not  all  inherited  their  wealth  since 
the  days  of  the  Saxon  Heptarchy." 

For  a  time  it  seemed  as  if  not  one  single 
person  at  Newport  had  ever  heard  of  Colonel 
Archibald  Corbin,  of  Corbin  Hall.  But  one 
afternoon,  as  Letty  and  her  grandfather  were 
taking  a  dignified  promenade, — they  could  not 
afford  to  drive  at  Newport, — they  noticed  a 
stylish  dogcart  approaching,  with  a  hale,  manly 
fellow,  neither  particularly  young  nor  espe- 
cially handsome,  handling  the  ribbons.  Just 
as  he  caught  sight  of  the  Colonel  he  pulled 
up,  and  in  another  moment  he  had  thrown  the 
reins  to  the  statuesque  person  who  sat  on  the 
back  seat,  and  was  advancing  toward  the  old 
man,  hat  in  hand. 

"This  must  be  Colonel  Corbin.  I  can't  be 
mistaken,"  he  cried,  in  a  cordial,  rich  voice. 

Letty  took  in  at  a  glance  how  well  set  up 
he  was,  how  fresh  and  wholesome  and  manly. 

"It  is  Colonel  Corbin,"  replied  the  Colonel, 
with  stately  affability. 


28  A   STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY 

"But  you  don't  remember  me,  I  see.  Per- 
haps you  recall  my  father,  John  Farebrother — 
wines  and  liquors.  We  're  not  in  the  business 
now,"  he  said,  smiling,  turning  to  Letty  with 
a  sort  of  natural  gracefulness,  "  but,  contrary 
to  custom,  we  have  n't  forgotten  it." 

The  Colonel  seized  Farebrother's  hand  and 
sawed  it  up  and  down  vigorously. 

"  Certainly,  certainly,"  he  said.  "  Your  fa- 
ther supplied  the  cellars  of  Corbin  Hall  for 
forty  years,  and  the  acquaintanceship  begun 
in  a  business  way  was  continued  with  very 
great  pleasure  on  my  part,  and  I  frequently 
enjoyed  a  noble  hospitality  at  your  father's 

villa  here,   in  the  good  old  days  before  the 

» 
war. 

"And  I  hope  you  will  extend  the  same 
friendship  to  my  father's  son,"  said  Farebro- 
ther, still  holding  his  hat  in  his  hand,  and  look- 
ing very  hard  at  Letty,  as  if  to  say,  "  Present 
me." 

"My  granddaughter,  Miss  Corbin,"  ex- 
plained the  Colonel,  and  Letty  put  her  slim 
little  hand,  country  fashion,  when  she  was  in- 
troduced, into  the  strong,  sunburned  one  that 
Farebrother  held  out  to  her.  Farebrother 
nodded  to  the  statuesque  person  in  the  dog- 


A   STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY  29 

cart,  and  his  nod  seemed  to  convey  a  whole 
code  of  meaning.  The  dogcart  trundled  off 
down  the  road,  and  Farebrother  walked  along 
by  Letty's  side,  the  Colonel  on  the  other. 
Letty  examined  this  new  acquaintance  criti- 
cally, under  her  dark  lashes,  anxiously  endea- 
voring to  belittle  him  in  her  own  mind.  But 
having  excellent  natural  sense,  in  about  two 
minutes  and  a  half  she  recognized  that  this 
man,  who  mentioned  so  promptly  that  his 
father  dealt  in  wines  and  liquors,  was  a  gen- 
tleman of  the  very  first  water.  In  fact,  there 
is  no  discounting  a  gentleman. 

Almost  every  carriage  that  passed  caused 
Farebrother  to  raise  his  hat,  and  Letty  took 
in,  with  feminine  astuteness,  that  he  was  a  man 
of  large  and  fashionable  acquaintance.  He 
walked  the  whole  way  back  to  their  dingy 
lodgings  with  them,  and  then  went  in  and  sat 
in  the  musty  drawing-room  for  half  an  hour. 
What  had  Miss  Corbin  seen  at  Newport?  he 
asked.  Miss  Corbin  had  seen  nothing,  as  she 
acknowledged  with  a  faint  resentment  in  her 
voice.  This  Mr.  Farebrother  pronounced  a 
shame,  a  scandal,  and  a  disgrace.  She  must 
immediately  see  everything.  H  is  sisters  would 
call  immediately;  he  would  see  to  that.  His 


30  A   STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY 

mother  never  went  out.  He  hoped  to  see 
Miss  Corbin  at  a  breakfast  or  something  or 
other  his  sisters  were  planning.  They  had 
got  hold  of  an  Englishman  with  a  handle  to 
his  name,  and  although  the  girls  pretended 
that  the  Britisher  was  only  an  incident  at  the 
breakfast,  that  was  all  a  subterfuge.  But 
Miss  Corbin  should  judge  for  herself,  and 
then,  after  thanking  the  Colonel  warmly  for  his 
invitation  to  call  again,  Farebrother  took  his 
leave. 

The  very  next  afternoon,  an  immaculate 
victoria  drove  up  to  the  Corbins'  door,  and 
two  immaculately  stylish  girls  got  out.  Miss 
Jemima  and  the  Colonel  were  not  at  home,  so 
Letty  received  the  visitors  alone  in  the  grim 
lodging-house  parlor.  They  got  on  famously, 
much  of  the  sweetness  and  true  breeding  of 
the  brother  being  evident  in  the  sisters.  They 
were  very  English  in  their  voices  and  pronun- 
ciation and  use  of  phrases,  but  in  some  way  it 
did  not  sound  affected,  and  they  were  genu- 
inely kind  and  girlishly  cordial.  And  it  was 
plain  that  "our  brother"  was  regarded  with 
extreme  veneration.  Would  Miss  Corbin 
come  to  a  breakfast  they  were  giving  next 
Saturday  ?  Miss  Corbin  accepted  so  delight- 


A   STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY  31 

edly,  that  the  Farebrother  girls,  who  were  not 
accustomed  to  Southern  enthusiasm  over  trifles, 
were  a  little  startled. 

Scarcely  had  the  young  ladies  driven  off 
when  up  came  Mr.  Farebrother.  Letty,  at 
this,  their  second  meeting,  received  him  as  if 
he  had  been  a  long  lost  brother.  He,  how- 
ever, who  knew  something  about  the  genus  to 
which  Letty  belonged,  grinned  with  keen  ap- 
preciation of  her  rapturous  greeting,  and  was 
not  the  least  overpowered  by  it.  He  hung  on 
in  the  most  unfashionable  manner  until  the 
Colonel  arrived,  who  was  highly  pleased  to 
meet  his  young  friend,  as  he  called  Farebrother, 
who  had  a  distinct  bald  spot  on  the  top  of  his 
head,  and  the  ruddy  flush  of  six-and-thirty  in 
his  face.  Farebrother  desired  the  Colonel's 
permission  to  put  him  up  at  the  Club,  and 
offered  him  various  other  civilities,  all  of  which 
the  Colonel  received  with  an  inconceivably 
funny  air  of  conferring  a  favor  instead  of  ac- 
cepting one. 

Newport  assumed  an  altogether  different 
air  to  the  Corbins  after  the  Farebrother  raid. 
But  Letty's  anticipations  of  the  breakfast  were 
dashed  with  a  little  secret  anxiety  of  which  she 
was  heartily  ashamed.  What  should  she  wear? 


32  A    STRANGE,  SAD    COMEDY 

She  had  never  been  to  a  fashionable  breakfast 
before  in  her  life.  She  hesitated  between  her 
one  elaborate  gown,  and  one  of  her  fresh  mus- 
lins, but  with  intuitive  taste  she  reflected  that 
a  white  frock  was  always  safe,  and  so  con- 
cluded to  wear  one,  in  which  she  looked  like 
a  tall  white  lily. 

The  day  of  the  breakfast  arrived  ;  the  noon- 
day sun  shone  with  a  tempered  radiance  upon 
the  velvety  turf,  the  great  clumps  of  blue  and 
pink  hydrangeas,  and  the  flower  borders  of 
rich  and  varied  color,  on  the  shaven  lawns.  It 
was  a  delicious  August  forenoon,  and  the  warm 
and  scented  air  had  a  clear  and  charming  fresh- 
ness. The  shaded  piazzas  of  the  Farebrother 
cottage,  with  masses  of  greenery  banked  about 
them,  made  a  beautiful  background  for  the 
dainty  girls  and  well-groomed  men  who  alighted 
from  the  perfect  equipages  that  rolled  up  every 
minute.  Presently  a  "  hack  "  in  the  last  stage 
of  decrepitude  passed  through  the  open  and 
ivy-grown  gateway,  and  as  it  drew  up  upon 
the  graveled  circle,  Letty  Corbin,  in  her  white 
dress  and  a  large  white  hat,  rose  from  the  seat. 
Farebrother  was  at  her  side  in  an  instant,  help- 
ing her  to  descend.  Usually,  Letty's  face  was 
of  a  clear  and  creamy  paleness,  but  now  it 


A   STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY  33 

was  flushed  with  a  wild-rose  blush.  It  had 
suddenly  dawned  upon  her  that  the  ramshackly 
rig,  which  was  quite  as  good  as  anything  she 
was  accustomed  to  in  Virginia,  did  not  look 
very  well  amid  the  smart  carriages  that  came 
before  and  after  her.  However,  it  in  no  wise 
destroyed  her  self-possession,  as  it  would  have 
done  that  of  some  of  the  girls  who  descended 
from  the  smart  carriages.  And  there  was  Fare- 
brother  with  his  kind  voice  and  smile,  waiting 
to  meet  her  at  the  steps,  and  pouring  bare- 
faced compliments  in  her  ear,  which  last  Miss 
Letty  relished  highly. 

The  two  girls  received  her  cordially,  and 
introduced  her  to  one  or  two  persons.  But 
they  could  not  devote  their  whole  time  to  her, 
and  in  a  little  while  Letty  drifted  into  the  cool, 
shaded,  luxurious  drawing-room,  and  found 
that  she  was  left  very  much  to  herself.  The 
men  and  girls  around  her  chatted  glibly  among 
themselves,  but  they  seemed  oblivious  of  the 
fact  that  there  was  a  stranger  present,  to  whom 
attention  would  have  been  grateful.  Two  very 
elegant  looking  girls  talked  directly  across 
her,  and  were  presently  joined  by  a  man  who 
quite  ignored  her  even  by  a  glance,  and  al- 
though she  sat  between  him  and  the  girls,  he 


34  A    STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY 

kept  his  eyes  fixed  on  them.  Letty  thought 
it  was  very  bad  manners. 

"  At  Corbin  Hall,"  she  thought  bitterly,  "  a 
stranger  would  have  been  overwhelmed  with 
kind  attentions";  but  apparently  at  Newport 
a  stranger  had  no  rights  that  a  cottager  was 
bound  to  respect. 

"  The  fact  is,  Miss  Corn  well,"  said  the  man, 
in  the  studied,  low  voice  of  the  "  smart  set," 
"  I  Ve  been  nearly  run  off  my  legs  this  week 
by  Sir  Archy  Corbin.  He  's  the  greatest  fel- 
low for  doing  things  I  ever  saw  in  my  life. 
And  he  positively  gives  a  man  no  rest  at  all. 
We  've  always  been  good  friends,  but  I  shall 
have  to  '  cut  him '  if  this  thing  keeps  up." 

The  lie  in  this  statement  was  not  in  the 
least  obvious  to  Letty,  but  was  perfectly  so  to 
the  young  women,  who  knew  there  was  not 
the  remotest  chance  of  Sir  Archy  Corbin  being 
cut  by  any  of  their  set.  The  name,  though,  at 
once  struck  Letty,  and  her  mobile  face  showed 
that  she  was  interested  in  the  subject. 

"Will  he  be  at  the  meet  on  Thursday,  Mr. 
Woodruff?  "  asked  the  girl,  suddenly  dropping 
her  waving  fan  and  indolent  manner,  and  show- 
ing great  animation.  At  this,  Woodruff  an- 
swered with  a  slightly  embarrassed  smile : 


A   STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY  35 

"Well  —  er  —  no,  I  hardly  think  so.  You 
know,  in  England,  this  is  n't  the  hunting 
season  —  " 

"  Oh,  no,"  struck  in  Miss  Cornwell,  per- 
fectly at  home  in  English  customs,  "  their 
hunting  season  is  just  in  time  to  break  up  the 
New  York  season." 

Letty's  face,  which  was  very  expressive,  had 
unconsciously  assumed  a  look  of  shocked  sur- 
prise. Hunting  a  fox  in  August !  For  Letty 
knew  nothing  of  the  pursuit  of  the  fierce  and 
cunning  aniseseed  bag.  Her  lips  almost 
framed  the  words,  "  How  dreadful !  " 

Woodruff,  without  glancing  at  her,  but  tak- 
ing in  swiftly  the  speaking  look  of  disgusted 
astonishment,  framed  with  his  lips  something 
that  sounded  like  "  Society  for  the  Prevention 
of  Cruelty  to  Animals." 

A  blush  poured  hotly  into  Letty's  face.  The 
rudeness  of  talking  about  her  before  her  face 
angered  her  intensely,  but  did  not  for  a  mo- 
ment disconcert  her.  There  was  a  little  pause. 
Miss  Cornwell  looked  straight  before  her  with 
an  air  of  amused  apprehension.  Then  Letty 
spoke  in  a  clear,  soft  voice : 

"  You  are  mistaken,"  she  said,  looking 
Woodruff  calmly  in  the  face.  "  I  do  not  be- 


36  A   STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY 

long  to  that  society.  I  do  not  altogether  be- 
lieve in  professional  philanthropy.  I  was,  it 
is  true,  shocked  at  the  idea  of  fox-hunting  in 
August,  because,  although  I  have  been  accus- 
tomed to  seeing  hunting  in  a  sportsmanlike 
manner  all  my  life,  the  fox  was  given  a  chance 
for  his  life." 

It  was  now  Woodruff's  turn  to  blush,  which 
he  did  furiously.  He  was  not  really  a  rude 
man,  but  his  whole  social  training  had  been  in 
the  line  of  trying  to  imitate  people  of  another 
type  than  himself,  and  consequently  his  per- 
ceptions were  not  acute.  The  imitative  pro- 
cess is  a  blunting  one.  But  he  did  not  desire 
to  give  anybody  pain,  and  the  idea  of  a  social 
blunder  was  simply  harrowing  to  him. 

"  Pray  excuse  me,"  he  said,  and  looked  a 
picture  of  awkward  misery,  and  Miss  Cornwell 
actually  seemed  to  enjoy  his  predicament. 

Letty  had  instantly  risen  as  soon  as  she  had 
spoken,  but  by  the  time  she  had  taken  a  step 
forward  there  was  a  little  movement  in  front 
of  her,  and  the  next  moment  she  saw  the  same 
Sir  Archibald  Corbin  she  had  seen  ten  years 
ago,  standing  in  front  of  her,  holding  out  his 
hand  and  saying:  "May  I  ask  if  this  is  not 
my  cousin,  Miss  Corbin,  of  Corbin  Hall?  You 


A   STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY  37 

were  a  little  girl  when  I  saw  you  last,  but  I 
cannot  be  mistaken." 

"  Yes,  I  am  Letty  Corbin,"  answered  Letty, 
giving  him  her  hand,  impulsively ;  she  would 
have  welcomed  her  deadliest  enemy  at  that 
moment,  in  order  to  create  a  diversion. 

But  the  effect  of  this  meeting  and  greeting 
upon  Woodruff  and  Miss  Cornwell,  and  the 
people  surrounding  them,  was  magnetic.  If 
Letty  had  announced,  "I  am  the  sole  and  only 
representative  of  the  noble  house  of  Plan- 
tagenet,"  or  Howard,  or  Montmorenci,  their 
surprise  could  not  have  been  greater. 

Sir  Archy  spoke  to  them  with  that  cool 
British  civility  which  is  not  altogether  pleas- 
ing. Woodruff  had  time  to  feel  a  ridiculous 
chagrin  at  the  footing  which  his  alleged  friend 
put  him  on,  and  Letty  was  quite  feline  enough 
to  let  him  see  it.  She  fixed  two  pretty,  mali- 
cious eyes  on  him,  and  smiled  wickedly  when 
instead  of  making  up  to  Sir  Archy,  he  very 
prudently  turned  toward  Miss  Cornwell,  who 
likewise  seemed  secretly  amused. 

But  Sir  Archy's  manner  toward  Letty  was 
cordiality  itself.  He  asked  after  the  Colonel. 

"  And  such  a  royal  snubbing  as  I  got  from 
him  that  time  so  long  ago,"  he  said,  fer- 


38  A   STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY 

vently.      "  I  hope  he  has  no  intention  of  re- 
peating it." 

"  I  can't  say,"  replied  Letty,  slyly,  and  ex- 
amining her  cousin  with  much  approval.  He 
had  the  delicious,  fresh,  manly  beauty  of  the 
Briton,  and  he  had  quite  lost  that  uncanny 
likeness  to  a  dead  man  which  had  been  so 
remarkable  ten  years  ago.  He  had,  however, 
the  British  simplicity  which  takes  all  of  an 
American  girl's  subtilities  in  perfect  candor 
and  good  faith.  He  and  Letty  got  along 
wonderfully  together.  In  fact,  Letty's  fluency 
and  affability  was  such  that  she  could  have 
got  on  with  an  ogre.  But  presently  Fare- 
brother  came  up  and  carried  her  off,  under  Sir 
Archy's  very  nose,  toward  the  dining-room. 
As  Letty  walked  across  the  beautiful  hall  into 
the  dining-room  beyond,  some  new  sense  of 
luxury  seemed  to  awaken  in  her.  She  was 
familiar  enough  with  certain  elegancies  of  life, 
—  at  that  very  moment  she  had  her  great- 
grandmother's  string  of  pearls  around  her 
milky-white  throat,  —  and  Corbin  Hall  con- 
tained a  store  of  heirlooms  for  which  the  aver- 
age Newport  cottager  would  have  bartered 
all  his  modern  bric-a-brac.  But  this  nicety 
of  detail  in  comfort  was  perfectly  new  and  de- 


A  STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY  39 

lightful  to  her,  and  she  confided  so  much  to 
Farebrother. 

"You  see,"  she  complained,  confidentially, 
"down  in  Virginia  we  spend  all  we  have  on 
the  luxuries  of  life,  and  then  we  have  to  do 
without  the  necessaries." 

"I  see,"  answered  Farebrother,  "but  then 
you  've  been  acknowledged  as  a  cousin  by  an 
English  baronet.  Think  of  that,  and  it  will 
sustain  you,  and  make  you  patient  under 
your  trials  more  than  all  the  consolation  of 
religion." 

"  I  '11  try  to,"  answered  Letty,  demurely. 

"  And  he  is  a  first-rate  fellow,  too,"  con- 
tinued Farebrother,  who  could  be  magnani- 
mous. "  I  made  up  to  him  at  the  club  before 
I  knew  who  he  was — " 

"  Oh,  nonsense.  You  knew  he  was  a  bar- 
onet." 

"I  '11  swear  I  did  n't.  Presently,  though,  it 
leaked  out  that  he  was  what  the  newspapers 
call  a  titled  person.  We  were  talking  about 
some  red  wine  that  a  villain  of  a  steward  was 
trying  to  palm  off  on  us,  and  Sir  Archy  gave 
his  opinion,  which  was  simply  rubbish.  I  told 
him  so  in  parliamentary  language,  and  when 
he  wanted  to  argue  the  point,  I  gently  re- 


40  A   STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY 

minded  him  that  my  father  and  my  grandfather 
had  been  in  the  wine-importing  line,  and  I 
had  been  born  and  bred  to  the  wine  busi- 
ness." 

By  this  time  Farebrother's  light-blue  ex- 
pressive eyes  were  dancing,  and  Letty  fully 
took  in  the  joke. 

"  The  descendants  of  the  dealers  in  tobacco, 
drugs,  and  hardware,  who  were  sitting  around, 
were  naturally  much  pained  at  my  admission, 
but  Sir  Archy  was  n't,  and  actually  gave  in  to 
my  opinion.  He  stuck  to  me  so  close  —  now, 
Miss  Corbin,  I  swear  I  am  not  lying  —  that  I 
could  n't  shake  him  off,  and  he  walked  home 
with  me.  Of  course  I  had  to  ask  him  in,  and 
then  the  girls  came  out ;  they  could  n't  have 
been  kept  away  from  him  unless  they  had 
been  tied,  and  he  has  pervaded  the  house 
more  or  less  ever  since.  That  is  how  it  is 
that  the  noble  house  of  Corbin  is  to-day  ac- 
cepting the  hospitality  of  the  humble  house 
of  Farebrother." 

"Very  kind  of  us,  I  'm  sure,"  said  Letty, 
gravely,  "  but  I  'd  feel  more  important  if  I  had 
more  clothes.  You  can't  imagine  how  fine  my 
wardrobe  seemed  down  in  Virginia,  and  here 
I  feel  as  if  I  had  n't  a  rag  to  my  back." 


A   STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY  41 

"A  rag  to  your  back,  indeed,"  said  Fare- 
brother,  with  bold  admiration.  "Those  white 
muslin  things  you  wear  are  the  prettiest  gowns 
I  ever  saw  at  Newport." 

Letty  smiled  rapturously.  The  breakfast 
was  delightful  to  two  persons,  Letty  Corbin 
and  Tom  Farebrother.  After  it  was  over  they 
went  out  on  the  lawn,  and  watched  the  long, 
soft  swell  of  the  summer  sea  breaking  at  their 
feet,  and  the  gay  hydrangeas  nodding  their 
pretty  heads  gravely  in  the  sunshine.  And  in 
a  moment  or  two  Sir  Archy  came  up  and 
joined  them.  Farebrother  held  his  ground 
stoutly ;  he  always  held  it  stoutly  and  pleas- 
antly as  well,  and  the  three  had  such  a  jolly 
time  that  the  correct  young  ladies  who  used 
their  broad  a's  so  carefully,  and  the  correct 
young  gentlemen  in  London-made  morning 
clothes,  stared  at  such  evident  enjoyment.  But 
it  was  a  respectful  stare,  and  even  Letty's 
ramshackly  carriage  was  regarded  with  toler- 
ation when  it  rattled  up.  Sir  Archy,  however, 
asked  permission  to  drive  her  back  in  his 
dog-cart,  which  Letty  at  once  agreed  to, 
much  to  Tom  Farebrother's  frankly  expressed 
disgust. 

"  There  you  go,"  he  growled  in  her  ear. 


42  A    STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY 

"  Just  like  the  rest ;  the  fellow  has  a  handle  to 
his  name  and  that  's  enough." 

"  Why  did  n't  you  offer  to  drive  me  home 
yourself?  "  answered  Letty,  with  equally  frank 
coquetry,  bending  her  eyes  upon  him  with  a 
challenge  in  their  hazel  depths. 

"By  George,  why  did  n't  I?"  was  Fare- 
brother's  whispered  reply,  as  he  handed  her 
over  to  Sir  Archy. 

Miss  Corbin's  exit  was  much  more  imposing 
than  her  arrival,  as  she  drove  off,  sitting  up 
straight  and  slim,  in  Sir  Archy's  dog-cart. 

''  Do  you  know,"  said  he,  as  they  spun  along 
the  freshly  watered  drive  in  the  soft  August 
afternoon,  "  that  you  are  the  first  American  I 
have  seen  yet  ?  All  of  the  young  ladies  that 
I  see  here  are  tolerably  fair  copies  of  the 
young  ladies  I  meet  in  London  drawing- 
rooms  ;  but  you  are  really  what  I  fancied  an 
American  girl  to  be." 

"Thank  you,"  answered  Letty,  dubiously. 
"  But  I  daresay  I  am  rather  better  behaved 
than  you  expected  to  find  me." 

"  Not  at  all,"  answered  Sir  Archy,  with 
energy. 

This  was  a  good  beginning  for  an  acquain- 
tance, and  when  Letty  got  home  she  could  not 


A   STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY  43 

quite  decide  which  she  liked  the  better,  Tom 
Farebrother  or  this  sturdy,  sensible  English 
cousin. 

It  is  scarcely  necessary  to  say  that  Letty's 
fortune  was  made  as  far  as  the  Newport  season 
went.  Her  opinions  of  people  and  things  at 
Newport  underwent  a  sudden  change  when 
she  began  to  be  treated  with  great  attention. 
She  triumphantly  confided  to  both  Farebrother 
and  Sir  Archy  that  she  did  not  mean  to  let 
the  Colonel  start  for  Virginia  until  he  had 
spent  all  his  money,  and  she  had  worn  out  all 
her  clothes,  and  would  be  obliged  to  go  home 
to  be  washed  and  mended.  Meanwhile  she 
flirted  infamously  and  impartially  with  both, 
after  a  manner  indigenous  to  the  region  south 
of  Mason  and  Dixon's  line. 


Ill 


period  so  frankly  mentioned  by 
Letty,  when  the  party  from  Corbin 
Hall  would  get  to  the  end  of  their 
financial  tether,  arrived  with  surprising  prompt- 
ness. But  something  still  more  surprising  hap- 
pened. The  Colonel  quite  unexpectedly  had 
dumped  upon  him  the  vast  and  imposing  sum 
of  two  thousand  dollars.  This  astonishing 
fact  was  communicated  to  Farebrother  one 
sunny  day  when  he  and  Letty  were  watching 
a  game  of  tennis  at  the  Casino. 

"  Do  you  know,"  said  she,  turning  two 
sparkling  eyes  on  him  from  under  her  large 
white  hat,  and  tilting  her  parasol  back  gaily, 
"  we  are  not  going  away,  after  all." 

"Thank  the  Lord,"  answered  Farebrother, 
with  fervent  irreverence. 

He  had  found  out  that  he  could  talk  any 
amount  of  sentiment  to  Letty  with  impunity. 
In  fact,  she  rather  demanded  excessive  senti- 

44 


A   STRANGE,  SAD    COMEDY  45 

ment,  of  which  she  nevertheless  believed  not 
one  word.  Farebrother,  who  had  seen  some- 
thing of  Southern  girls,  very  quickly  and  ac- 
curately guessed  that  it  was  the  sort  of  thing 
Letty  had  been  used  to.  But  he  was  amused 
and  charmed  to  find,  that  along  with  the  most 
inveterate  and  arrant  coquetry,  she  combined 
a  modesty  that  amounted  to  prudery,  and  a 
reserve  of  manner  in  certain  respects  which 
kept  him  at  an  inexorable  distance.  He  could 
whisper  soft  nonsense  in  Letty's  ear  all  day 
long,  and  she  would  listen  with  an  artless  en- 
joyment that  was  inexpressibly  diverting  to 
Farebrother.  But  when  he  once  attempted  to 
touch  her  hand  in  putting  on  her  wrap,  Letty 
turned  on  him  with  an  angry  stare  that  dis- 
concerted him  utterly.  It  was  not  the  sur- 
prise of  an  ignorant  girl,  but  the  thorough 
resentment  of  an  offended  woman.  Farebrother 
took  care  not  to  transgress  in  that  way  again. 
Letty  fully  expected  him  to  express  raptu- 
rous delight  at  her  announcement,  and  was 
not  disappointed.  "  It  's  very  strange,"  she 
continued,  twirling  her  parasol  and  leaning 
forward  in  her  chair;  "  grandpapa's  father  lent 
some  money  a  long  time  ago, —  I  think  the 
Corbins  got  some  money  by  hook  or  by  crook 


46  A   STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY 

in  1814, — and  they  lent  it  all  out,  and  ever 
since  then  they  have  been  borrowing,  as  far 
as  I  can  make  out.  Well,  some  of  it  was  on 
a  mortgage  that  was  foreclosed  the  other  day, 
so  grandpapa  says,  and  he  got  two  thousand 
dollars." 

Letty  held  off  to  watch  the  effect  of  this 
stunning  statement.  Two  thousand  dollars 
was  a  great  deal  of  money  to  her.  Fare- 
brother,  arrant  hypocrite  that  he  was,  had 
learned  the  important  lesson  of  promptly 
adopting  Letty's  view  of  everything,  and 
did  it  so  thoroughly  that  sometimes  he  over- 
did it. 

"  Why,  that  's  a  pot  of  money,"  he  said 
gravely.  "  It  's  quite  staggering  to  contem- 
plate." 

Letty  was  not  deficient  in  shrewdness,  and 
she  knew  by  that  time  that  the  standard  of 
values  in  Virginia  and  at  Newport  varied. 
So  she  looked  at  him  very  hard,  and  said, 
sternly : 

"  I  hope  you  are  not  telling  me  a  story." 

"  Of  course  not.  But  really,"  here  Fare- 
brother  became  quite  serious,  "it  depends  a 
good  deal  on  how  it  comes.  Last  year,  for 
example,  I  only  made  three  thousand  dollars. 


A    STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY  47 

You  see  I  've  got  enough  to  live  upon  without 
work,  and  that  's  a  fearful  drawback  to  people 
giving  me  work.  I  'm  an  architect,  and  I  love 
my  trade.  But  I  can't  convince  people  that 
I  'm  not  a  dilettante.  I  am  ashamed  to  eat 
the  bread  of  idleness,  and  yet  —  here 's  a  ques- 
tion that  comes  up.  Has  any  man  a  right, 
who  does  not  need  to  work,  to  enter  into  close 
competition  with  those  who  do  need  it  ?  " 

Farebrother  was  very  much  in  earnest  by 
that  time.  He  saw  that  these  nineteenth-cen- 
tury problems  had  never  presented  themselves 
to  Letty's  simple  experience.  But  they  were 
of  vast  moment  to  him.  Letty  fixed  her  large, 
clear  gaze  upon  him  very  much  as  if  he  were 
a  new  sort  of  animal  she  was  studying. 

"  I  thought  here,  where  you  are  all  so  rich, 
you  cared  for  nothing  except  how  to  enjoy 
yourselves." 

"  Did  you?  Then  you  made  a  huge  mis- 
take. Why,  I  know  of  men  literally  wallow- 
ing in  money  who  work  for  the  pure  love  of 
work.  I  could  work  for  love  of  work,  too,  but 
I  tell  you,  when  I  see  a  poor  fellow,  with  a 
wife  and  family  to  support,  slaving  over  plans 
and  specifications,  and  then  I  feel  that  my 
competition  is  making  that  man's  chances  con- 


48  A   STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY 

siderably  less,  it  takes  the  heart  out  of  my 
work.  Now,  if  you  '11  excuse  me,  I  '11  say 
that  I  could  make  three  thousand  dollars  sev- 
eral times  over  if  I  went  at  it  for  a  living  — 
because  like  all  men  who  work  from  love,  not 
from  necessity,  I  am  inclined  to  believe  in  my 
own  capacity  and  to  have  a  friendly  opinion 
of  my  own  performances.  You  may  disparage 
everything  about  me,  and  although  it  may 
lacerate  my  feelings,  I  will  forgive  you.  But 
just  say  one  word  against  me  as  an  architect, 
and  everything  is  over  between  us." 

"  I  sha'n't  say  anything  against  you  or  your 
architecture  either,"  replied  Letty,  bringing 
the  battery  of  her  eyes  and  smile  to  bear  on 
him  with  shameless  cajolery. 

But  just  then  their  attention  was  attracted 
by  a  group  approaching  them  over  the  velvet 
turf.  Sir  Archibald  Corbin  was  in  the  lead, 
escorting  two  tall,  handsome,  blonde  young 
women.  They  were  evidently  sisters  and  evi- 
dently English.  They  had  smooth,  abundant 
light  hair,  knotted  low  under  their  turban  hats, 
and  their  complexions  were  deliciously  fresh. 
Although  the  day  was  warm,  and  Letty  found 
her  sheer  white  frock  none  too  cool,  and  every 
other  woman  in  sight  had  on  a  thin  light  gown, 


A   STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY  49 

these  two  handsome  English  women  wore 
dark,  tight-fitting  tweed  frocks,  and  spotless 
linen  collars.  Behind  them  walked  two  men, 
one  a  thoroughly  English-looking  young  fel- 
low, while  the  last  of  the  party  so  completely 
fixed  Letty's  attention  as  soon  as  she  put  her 
eyes  on  him,  that  she  quite  forgot  everybody 
else. 

He  was  an  old  man,  small,  slight,  and  scru- 
pulously well  dressed.  His  hair  was  perfectly 
white,  and  his  face  was  bloodless.  His  clothes 
were  a  pale  gray,  his  hat  was  a  paler  gray, 
and  he  was  in  effect  a  symphony  in  gray. 
Even  the  rose  at  his  buttonhole  was  white. 
But  from  his  pallid  face  gleamed  a  pair  of  the 
blackest  and  most  fascinating  eyes  Letty  had 
ever  beheld.  It  was  as  if  they  had  gained  in 
fire  and  intensity  as  his  blood  and  his  life 
grew  more  sluggish.  And  however  frail  he 
might  look,  his  eyes  were  full  of  vitality.  He 
walked  along,  leaning  upon  the  arm  of  the 
young  man  and  speaking  but  little.  The  party 
stopped  a  little  way  off  to  watch  a  game  of  ten- 
nis, while  Sir  Archy  made  straight  for  Letty. 

"  May  I  introduce  my  friends  to  you  ?  "  he 
asked,  in  a  low  voice.  "  Mrs.  Chessingham, 
and  her  sister,  Miss  Maywood,  Chessingham 


So  A    STRANGE,   SAD    COMEDY 

and  Mr.  Romaine.  Chess  is  one  of  the  best 
and  cleverest  fellows  going,  and  of  good  fam- 
ily, although  he  is  a  medical  man,  and  he  is 
traveling  with  Mr.  Romaine  —  a  rich  old  hypo- 
chondriac, I  imagine." 

As  soon  as  he  mentioned  Mr.  Romaine  a 
flood  of  light  burst  upon  Letty.  "  Is  n't  he  a 
Virginian? — an  American,  I  mean?  And 
did  n't  grandpapa  know  him  hundreds  of 
years  ago  ?  "  she  asked,  eagerly. 

"  I  have  heard  he  was  born  in  Virginia,  as 
poor  Chessingham  knows  to  his  cost,"  an- 
swered Sir  Archy,  laughing  quietly.  "  After 
having  gone  all  over  Europe,  Asia,  and  Africa, 
the  old  hunks  at  last  made  up  his  mind  that  he 
would  come  back  to  America.  Chess  was  very 
well  pleased,  particularly  as  Mrs.  Chessingham 
and  Miss  Maywood  were  invited  to  come  as  his 
guests.  But  old  Romaine  swears  he  means  to 
take  the  whole  party  back  to  Virginia  to  his 
old  place  there  that  he  has  n't  seen  for  forty 
years,  and  naturally  they  '11  find  it  dull." 

Sir  Archy  possessed  in  perfection  that  ap- 
palling English  frankness  which  puts  to  shame 
the  characteristic  American  caution.  But  Sir 
Archy's  mistake  was  Farebrother's  oppor- 
tunity. 


A   STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY  51 

"  Deuced  odd  mistake,  finding  Virginia 
dull,"  remarked  that  arch  hypocrite,  at  which 
Letty  rewarded  him  with  a  brilliant  smile. 

Sir  Archy  had  got  his  permission  by  that 
time,  and  he  went  across  the  grass  to  his 
friends  and  brought  them  up. 

The  two  English  women  looked  at  Letty 
with  calmly  inquisitive  eyes  full  of  frank  admi- 
ration. Letty,  with  a  side-look  and  an  air  of 
extreme  modesty,  took  them  from  the  top  of 
their  dainty  heads  to  the  soles  of  their  ugly 
shoes  at  one  single  swift  glance.  Then  Mr. 
Chessingham  was  presented,  and  last,  Mr.  Ro- 
maine.  Mr.  Romaine  gave  the  impression  of 
looking  through  people  when  he  looked  at 
them  and  nailing  them  to  the  wall  with  his 
glance.  And  Letty  was  no  exception  to  the 
rule.  He  fixed  his  black  eyes  on  her,  and  said 
in  a  peculiarly  soft,  smooth  voice :  "  Your 
name,  my  dear  young  lady,  is  extremely  fam- 
iliar to  me.  Archibald  Corbin  and  his  brothers 
were  known  to  me  well  in  my  youth  at  Shrews- 
bury plantation." 

"  Mr.  Archibald  Corbin  is  my  grandfather, 
and  he  has  spoken  often  of  you,"  replied  Letty, 
gazing  with  all  her  eyes. 

This  then  was  Mr.  Romaine,  the  eccentric, 


52  A    STRANGE,   SAD    COMEDY 

the  gifted  Mr.  Romaine,  of  whose  career  vague 
rumors  had  reached  the  quiet  Virginia  country 
neighborhood  which  he  had  left  so  long  ago. 
Far  back  in  the  dark  ages,  about  1835,  when 
Colonel  Corbin  had  made  a  memorable  trip  in 
a  sailing-vessel  to  Europe,  Mr.  Romaine  had 
been  an  attache  of  the  American  legation  in 
London ;  he  had  resigned  that  appointment, 
but  he  seemed  to  have  taken  a  disgust  to  his 
native  country,  and  had  never  returned  to  it. 
And  Letty  had  a  dim  impression  of  having 
heard  that  Miss  Jemima  in  her  youth  had  had 
a  slight  weakness  for  the  handsome  Romaine. 
But  it  was  so  far  in  the  distant  past  as  to  be 
quite  shadowy.  There  was  a  superstition 
afloat  that  Mr.  Romaine  had  made  an  enor- 
mous fortune  in  some  way,  and  his  conduct 
about  Shrewsbury  certainly  indicated  it.  The 
place  had  been  farmed  on  shares  for  a  gen- 
eration back,  and  the  profits  paid  the  taxes, 
and  no  more.  But  the  house,  which  was  a 
fine  old  mansion,  had  never  been  suffered  to 
fall  into  decay,  and  was  kept  in  a  state  of 
repair  little  short  of  marvelous  in  Virginia. 
Nobody  was  permitted  to  live  in  it,  and  at 
intervals  of  ten  years  the  report  would  be 
started  that  Mr.  Romaine  intended  returning 


A   STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY  53 

to  Shrewsbury.  But  nothing  of  the  sort  had 
been  said  for  a  long  time  now,  and  meanwhile 
Mr.  Romaine  was  on  the  American  side,  and 
nobody  in  his  native  county  had  heard  a  word 
of  it. 

"And  Miss  Jemima  Corbin,"  said  Mr.  Ro- 
maine, a  faint  smile  wrinkling  the  fine  lines 
about  his  mouth.  "  When  I  knew  her  she 
was  a  very  pretty  young  lady ;  there  have 
been  a  great  many  pretty  young  ladies  in  the 
Corbin  family,"  he  added,  with  old-fashioned 
gallantry. 

"Aunt  Jemima  is  still  Miss  Corbin,"  an- 
swered Letty,  also  smiling.  "  She  never  could 
find  a  man  so  good  as  my  grandfather,  '  brother 
Archibald,'  as  she  calls  him,  and  so  she  would 
not  have  any  at  all." 

"  May  I  ask  if  your  grandfather  is  here  with 
you  ?  and  is  he  enjoying  good  health  ?  " 

"Yes,  he  is  now  in  the  Casino — I  don't 
know  exactly  where,  but  he  will  soon  come  for 
me." 

This  reawakening  of  his  early  life  was  not 
without  its  effect  on  Mr.  Romaine,  nor  was  it 
a  wholly  pleasant  one.  For  time  and  Mr. 
Romaine  were  mortal  enemies.  His  face 
flushed  slightly,  and  he  sat  down  on  a  garden 


54  A   STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY 

chair  by  Letty,  and  the  next  moment  Colonel 
Corbin  was  seen  advancing  upon  them.  The 
Colonel  wore  gaiters  of  an  ancient  pattern ; 
they  were  some  he  had  before  the  war.  His 
new  frock-coat  was  tightly  buttoned  over  his 
tall,  spare  figure,  and  on  his  head  was  a  broad 
palmetto  hat.  In  an  instant  the  two  old  men 
recognized  each  other  and  grasped  hands. 
They  had  been  boy  friends,  and  in  spite  of 
the  awful  stretch  of  time  which  had  separated 
them,  and  the  total  lack  of  communication  be- 
tween them,  each  turned  back  with  emotion  to 
their  early  associations  together. 

Then  the  Colonel  was  presented  to  the  two 
ladies,  who  seemed  to  think  that  there  was  a 
vast  and  unnecessary  amount  of  introducing 
going  on,  and  the  younger  people  formed  a 
group  to  themselves.  Letty  and  Miss  May- 
wood  fell  to  talking,  and  Letty  asked  the 
inevitable  question  : 

"  How  do  you  like  America? " 

"  Quite  well,"  answered  Miss  May  wood,  in 
her  rich,  clear  English  voice.  "  Of  course  the 
climate  is  hard  on  us ;  these  heats  are  almost 
insufferable.  But  it  is  very  interesting  and 
picturesque,  and  all  that  sort  of  thing.  Mr. 
Romaine  tells  us  the  autumn  in  Virginia, 


A    STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY  55 

where  he  is  to  take  us  to  his  old  place,  is 
beautiful." 

"  Mr.  Romaine's  place  and  our  place,  Cor- 
bin  Hall,  are  not  far  apart,"  said  Letty,  and 
at  once  Miss  Maywood  felt  a  new  interest  in 
her. 

"  Pray  tell  me  about  it,"  she  said.  "  Is  it  a 
hunting  country  ?  " 

"  For  men,"  answered  Letty.  "  But  I  never 
knew  of  women  following  the  hounds.  We 
sometimes  go  out  on  horseback  to  see  the 
hunt,  but  we  don't  really  follow  the  hounds." 

"  But  there  is  good  hunting,  I  fancy,"  cried 
Miss  Maywood  with  animation.  "  Mr.  Ro- 
maine  has  promised  me  that,  and  I  like 
a  good  stiff  country,  such  as  he  tells  me  it 
is.  I  have  hunted  for  four  seasons  in  York- 
shire, but  now  that  Gladys  has  married  in 
London,  she  has  invited  me  to  be  with  her  for 
six  months  in  the  year,  and  although  I  hate 
London,  I  love  Gladys,  and  it  's  a  great  sav- 
ing, too.  But  it  puts  a  stop  to  my  hunting." 

Letty  noticed  that  not  only  did  Miss  May- 
wood  use  Mr.  Romaine's  name  very  often, 
but  she  glanced  at  him  continually.  He  sat 
quite  close  to  the  Colonel,  listening  with  a 
half  smile  to  Colonel  Corbin's  sounding  pe- 


$6  A   STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY 

riods,  describing  the  effects  of  the  war  and  the 
present  status  of  things  in  Virginia.  His  ex- 
traordinarily expressive  black  eyes  supplied 
comment  without  words. 

"  I  am  very  glad  you  are  coming  to  the 
county,"  said  Letty,  after  a  moment,  "and  I 
hope  you  '11  like  Newport,  too.  At  first  I 
did  n't  like  it,  but  afterward,  I  met  the  Fare- 
brothers  "  —  she  spoke  in  a  low  voice,  and  in- 
dicated Farebrother  with  a  glance — "and 
they  have  been  very  kind  to  me,  and  I  have 
had  a  very  good  time.  We  intended  to  go 
home  next  week.  Newport  's  a  very  expen- 
sive place,"  she  added,  with  a  frank  little 
smile.  "But  now,  we  —  that  is,  my  grand- 
father and  my  aunt  and  myself —  intend  stay- 
ing a  little  longer." 

"  Everything  in  America  is  expensive," 
cried  Miss  Maywood,  with  energy.  "  I  can't 
imagine  how  Mr.  Romaine  can  pay  our  bills ; 
they  are  so  enormous.  Reginald — Mr.  Chess- 
ingham — is  his  doctor,  you  know,  and  Mr. 
Romaine  won't  let  Reggie  leave  him,  and 
Reggie  would  n't  leave  Gladys,  and  Gladys 
would  n't  leave  me,  and  so,  here  we  are.  It 
is  the  one  good  thing  about  Reggie's  profes- 
sion. I  hate  doctors,  don't  you  ?  " 


A   STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY  57 

"Why?"  asked  Letty,  in  surprise. 

"Because,"  said  Miss  Maywood,  positively, 
"it  's  so  unpleasant  to  have  people  saying, 
'What  a  pity — there  is  that  sweet,  pretty 
Gladys  Maywood  married  to  a  medical  man  ' — 
he  is  n't  even  a  doctor — and  Gladys  cannot  go 
to  Court,  you  know,  and  it  has  really  made 
a  great  difference  in  her  position  in  London. 
Papa  was  an  army  man,  and  we  were  pre- 
sented when  we  came  out;  but  society  has 
come  to  an  end  as  far  as  poor  Gladys  is  con- 
cerned. And  although  Reggie  is  a  dear  fel- 
low, and  I  love  him,  I  do  wish  he  was  n't 
associated  with  plasters  and  pills  and  that  sort 
of  thing." 

All  this  was  thoroughly  puzzling  to  Letty, 
but  she  had  realized  since  she  came  to  New- 
port that  there  was  a  great,  big,  wide  world, 
with  which  she  was  totally  unfamiliar,  outside 
of  Corbin  Hall  and  its  neighborhood.  She 
knew  she  was  a  stranger  to  the  thoughts  and 
feelings  of  the  people  who  lived  in  this  outer 
world.  She  glanced  at  "  Reggie  " — he  had  a 
strong,  sensible  face,  and  she  could  imagine 
that  Mr.  Romaine  might  well  find  help  in  him. 

"Is  Mr.  Romaine  very,  very  ill  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  I   don't  know,"   replied    Miss   Maywood, 


58  A   STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY 

smiling.  "  He  's  a  very  interesting  man,  rich, 
and  has  an  excellent  position  in  England.  He 
does  n't  do  a  great  deal,  but  he  always  has 
strength  enough  to  travel.  I  think,  occasion- 
ally, perhaps,  he  is  only  hipped,  but  it  would 
not  do  to  say  generally.  Sometimes  he  talks 
about  dying,  and  sometimes  he  talks  about 
getting  married." 

"Who  would  marry  him,  though?"  asked 
Letty,  innocently. 

"  Who  would  rit  marry  him  ?  "  replied  Miss 
Maywood,  calmly.  "There  was  a  French 
woman  a  few  years  ago  — "  She  stopped 
suddenly,  remembering  that  she  knew  very 
little  about  this  French  woman,  a  widow  of 
good  family  but  small  means.  There  had 
been  a  subdued  hurricane  of  talk,  and  she  re- 
membered hearing  that  at  the  time  wagers 
had  been  made  as  to  whether  the  French 
woman  would  score  or  not.  But  Mr.  Romaine 
had  apparently  outwitted  Madame  de  Fon- 
blanque, —  that  was  her  name, —  and  since  the 
Chessinghams  had  been  with  him,  nothing  had 
been  seen  or  heard  of  the  French  widow.  So 
Miss  Maywood  merely  said  in  her  gentle,  even 
way,  "  I  grant  you,  he  is  n't  young,  and  his 
health  is  not  good,  but  his  manners  and  his 


A    STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY  59 

money  are  above  reproach,  and  so  is  his  posi- 
tion." Miss  Maywood  mentally  added  to  this 
last  qualification  —  "  for  an  American." 

"  Marrying  for  manners,  money,  and  position 
does  n't  strike  me  as  quite  a  nice  thing  to  do," 
said  Letty,  stoutly. 

Miss  Maywood  simply  glanced  at  her,  but 
the  look  said  as  plainly  as  words,  "  What  a 
fool  to  suppose  anybody  would  believe  you." 

But  what  she  actually  said  was,  with  a  little 
laugh,  "  That 's  very  nice  to  say,  but  marriage 
without  those  things  is  out  of  the  question,  and 
the  possession  of  them  marks  the  difference 
between  a  possible  man  and  an  impossible 
man." 

This  short  discussion  had  brought  the  two 
young  women  to  a  mutual  contempt  of  one 
another,  although  each  was  too  well  bred  to 
show  it.  Just  then  there  was  a  slight  diversion 
in  the  group,  and  Letty  gravitated  toward  Sir 
Archy.  It  was  then  his  turn  instead  of  Fare- 
brother's  to  receive  assurances  of  Miss  Cor- 
bin's  distinguished  consideration. 

"Where  have  you  been  all  the  morning?" 
she  asked,  with  her  sweetest  wheedling.  "  I  Ve 
been  looking  out  for  you  a  whole  hour." 

Farebrother  was  then   engaged  with  Mrs. 


60  A    STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY 

Chessingham  and  Miss  Maywood,  and  did  not 
hear  this  colossal  fib,  which  would  not  have 
ranked  as  a  fib  at  all  in  Letty's  birthplace. 
But  Miss  Maywood  heard  it  with  a  thrill  of 
disgust.  Not  so  Sir  Archy.  He  had  found 
out  by  that  time  that  the  typical  American  girl 
—  not  the  sham  English  one,  which  sometimes 
is  evolved  from  an  American  seedling  —  is 
prone  to  say  flattering  things  to  men,  which 
cannot  always  be  taken  at  their  face  value. 
Nevertheless,  he  liked  the  process,  and  showed 
his  white  teeth  in  a  pleasant  smile. 

"  And,"  continued  Letty,  with  determined 
cajolery,  "  you  really  must  not  treat  me  with 
the  utter  neglect  you  Ve  shown  me  for  the 
last  ten  days." 

"  Neglect,  by  Jove,"  said  Sir  Archy,  laugh- 
ing. "  It  seems  to  me  that  the  neglect  you 
complain  of  keeps  me  on  the  go  from  morning 
till  night.  When  I  am  not  doing  errands  for 
you  I  am  reading  up  on  subjects  that  I  have 
never  thought  essential  to  a  polite  education 
before,  but  which  you  seem  to  think  anybody 
but  a  Patagonian  would  know." 

Nothing  escaped  Miss  Maywood's  ears. 
"  The  brazen  thing,"  she  thought  indignantly 
to  herself.  "  Pretending  that  she  would  n't 


A   STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY  61 

marry  for  money  and  position  and  now  simply 
throwing  herself  at  Sir  Archy's  head." 

Letty,  however,  was  altogether  unconscious 
of  this,  and  went  on  with  happy  indifference. 

"  I  found  your  knowledge  of  the  American 
Constitution  perfectly  rudimentary,  and  of 
course  I  could  not  condescend  to  talk  to  any 
man  ignorant  of  the  first  principles  of  our  gov- 
ernment, and  you  ought  to  go  down  on  your 
knees  and  thank  me  for  putting  you  in  the 
way  of  enlightenment." 

Every  word  Letty  uttered  startled  Miss 
May  wood  more  and  more.  It  was  bad  enough 
to  see  Sir  Archy  swallowing  the  huge  lumps 
of  flattery  that  Miss  America  so  calmly  ad- 
ministered, but  to  see  him  take  mildly  a  hec- 
toring and  overbearing  attack  upon  the  one 
subject  —  public  affairs  —  on  which  a  man  is 
supposed  to  be  most  superior  to  woman  was 
simply  paralyzing.  Miss  Maywood  turned, 
fully  expecting  to  see  Sir  Archy  walk  off  in 
high  dudgeon.  Instead  of  that  he  was  laugh- 
ing at  Letty,  his  fine,  ruddy  face  showing  a 
boyish  dimple  as  he  smiled. 

Then  there  was  a  move  toward  the  Casino. 
Somebody  had  proposed  luncheon.  Colonel 
Corbin  and  Mr.  Romaine  got  up  from  their 


62  A  STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY 

seats  and  joined  the  younger  people.  The 
Colonel,  with  a  flourish  of  his  hand,  remarked 
to  Mrs.  Chessingham,  "  You  have  witnessed, 
madam,  the  meeting  of  two  old  men  who  have 
not  seen  each  other  in  more  than  forty  years. 
A  very  gratifying  meeting,  madam ;  for  al- 
though all  retrospection  has  its  pain,  it  has 
also  its  pleasure." 

This  allusion  to  himself  as  an  old  man  evi- 
dently did  not  enrapture  Mr.  Romaine.  His 
eyes  contracted  and  he  scowled  unmistakably, 
while  the  Colonel,  with  a  bland  smile,  fondly 
imagined  that  he  had  said  the  very  thing  cal- 
culated to  please.  Farebrother  took  the  lead, 
and  the  party  was  soon  seated  at  a  round  table, 
close  to  a  window  that  looked  out  upon  the 
gay  lawns  and  tennis  grounds.  Then  Letty 
had  a  chance  to  study  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Chessing- 
ham and  Mr.  Romaine  a  little  more  closely. 

Mr.  Chessingham  was  unmistakably  pre- 
possessing. He  had  in  abundance  the  vitality, 
the  steadiness  of  nerve,  the  quiet  reserve 
strength  most  lacking  in  Mr.  Romaine.  There 
was  a  healthy  personal  magnetism  about  the 
young  doctor  which  accounted  for  Mr.  Ro- 
maine's  willingness  to  saddle  himself  with  all 
of  Chessingham's  impedimenta.  Mrs.  Chess- 


A   STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY  63 

ingham,  although  as  like  Miss  Maywood  as 
two  peas,  yet  had  something  much  more  soft 
and  winning  about  her.  She  was,  it  is  true, 
strictly  conventional,  and  had  the  typical 
English  woman's  respect  for  rank  and  money 
and  matrimony,  but  marriage  had  plainly  done 
much  for  her.  She  might  grieve  that  "Reggie" 
could  not  go  to  Court,  but  she  did  full  justice 
to  Reggie  as  a  man  and  a  doctor. 

Miss  Maywood  sat  next  Mr.  Romaine,  and 
agreed  scrupulously  with  everything  he  said. 
This  peculiarity  of  hers  seemed  to  inspire  the 
old  gentleman  with  the  determination  to  make 
a  spectacle  of  her,  and  he  advanced  some  of 
the  most  grotesque  and  alarming  fallacies 
imaginable,  to  which  Miss  Maywood  gave  a 
facile  assent. 

"It  is  my  belief,"  he  said,  quite  gravely,  at 
last,  in  consequence  of  an  allusion  to  the 
Franco- Prussian  war,  "that  had  the  Commu- 
nists succeeded  in  keeping  possession  of  Paris 
a  month  longer,  we  should  have  seen  the 
German  army  trooping  out  of  France,  and 
glad  to  get  away  at  any  price.  Had  the 
Communists'  intelligent  use  of  petroleum  been 
made  available  against  the  Prussians,  who 
knows  what  the  result  might  have  been?  I 


64  A    STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY 

have  always  thought  the  few  disorders  they 
committed  very  much  exaggerated,  and  their 
final  overthrow  a  misfortune  for  France." 

"Great  heavens!"  exclaimed  Colonel  Cor- 
bin,  falling  back  in  his  chair;  but  rinding  noth- 
ing else  to  say,  he  poured  out  a  glass  of 
Apollinaris  and  gulped  it  down  in  portentous 
silence. 

"  No  doubt  you  are  right,"  said  Miss  May- 
wood,  turning  her  fresh,  handsome  face  on 
Mr.  Romaine.  "  One  never  can  get  at  the 
truth  of  these  things.  The  Communists  were 
beaten,  and  so  they  were  wrong." 

There  was  a  slight  pause,  during  which  Sir 
Archy  and  Farebrother  exchanged  sympa- 
thetic grins ;  they  saw  how  the  land  lay,  and 
then  Letty  spoke  up  calmly. 

"  I  can't  agree  with  Mr.  Romaine,"  she  said 
in  her  clear  voice.  "  I  think  the  Communists 
were  the  most  frightful  wretches  that  ever 
drew  breath.  To  think  of  their  murdering 
that  brave  old  archbishop." 

"  Political  necessity,  my  dear  young  lady," 
murmured  Mr.  Romaine.  "  M.  Darboy 
brought  his  fate  on  himself." 

"  However,"  retorted  Letty  with  a  gay  smile, 
"  it  is  just  possible  that  you  may  be  guying 


A   STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY  65 

us.  The  fact  is,  Mr.  Romaine,  your  eyes  are 
too  expressive,  and  when  you  uttered  those 
terrific  sentiments,  I  saw  that  you  were  simply 
setting  a  trap  for  us,  as  deep  as  a  well  and  as 
wide  as  a  church  door.  But  we  won't  walk 
in  it  to  please  you." 

Miss  Maywood  colored  quickly.  It  never 
had  occurred  to  her  literal  mind  before  that 
Mr.  Romaine  did  not  mean  every  word  he 
said,  and  if  she  had  thought  to  the  contrary, 
she  would  not  have  dared  to  say  it.  She  fully 
expected  an  outbreak  of  the  temper  which  Mr. 
Romaine  was  known  to  possess,  but  instead, 
as  with  Sir  Archy,  Letty's  daring  onslaught 
produced  only  a  smile.  Mr.  Romaine  was 
well  pleased  at  the  notion  that  he  was  not  too 
old  to  be  chaffed. 

"  You  are  much  too  acute,"  he  said,  with  a 
sort  of  silent  laughter. 

"  Just  what  I  have  always  told  Miss  Corbin," 
remarked  Farebrother,  energetically.  "If  you 
will  join  me,  perhaps  we  can  organize  a  society 
for  the  suppression  of  clever  women,  and  then 
we  sha'n't  be  at  their  mercy  as  we  now  are." 

"  And  don't  forget  a  clause  guaranteeing 
that  they  shall  be  deprived  of  all  opportunities 
of  a  higher  education,"  suggested  Sir  Archy, 


66  A    STRANGE,   SAD    COMEDY 

who  had  learned  by  that  time  to  forward  any 
joke  on  hand. 

"  That  would  be  unnecessary,"  said  Mr. 
Romaine.  "  The  higher  education  does  them 
no  harm  at  all,  and  gives  them  much  innocent 
pride  and  pleasure." 

As  the  luncheon  progressed  Miss  Letty  be- 
came more  and  more  in  doubt  whether  she 
liked  Mr.  Romaine  or  not.  She  regarded  him 
as  being  somewhere  in  the  neighborhood  of 
ninety-five,  and  wished  to  feel  the  respect  for 
him  she  ought  to  feel  for  all  decent  graybeards. 
But  Mr.  Romaine  was  as  fully  determined  not 
to  be  thought  old  as  Letty  was  determined  to 
think  that  he  was  old.  He  was  certainly  un- 
like any  old  man  that  she  had  ever  met ;  not 
that  there  was  anything  in  the  least  ridiculous 
about  him, —  he  was  much  too  astute  to  affect 
juvenility, —  but  there  was  an  alertness  in  his 
wonderful  black  eyes  and  a  keenness  in  his  soft 
speech  that  was  far  removed  from  old  age. 
And  he  was  easily  master  of  everybody  at  the 
table,  excepting  Farebrother  and  Letty.  With 
feminine  intuition  Letty  felt  Mr.  Romaine's 
power,  and  knew  that  had  Mr.  Chessingham 
been  the  old  man  and  Mr.  Romaine  the  young 
doctor,  Mr.  Romaine  would  still  have  been  in 


A   STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY  67 

the  ascendant.  The  Colonel,  with  well  meant 
but  cruel  persistence,  tried  to  get  Mr.  Romaine 
into  a  reminiscent  mood,  but  in  vain.  Mr.  Ro- 
maine utterly  ignored  the  "  forty  years  ago, 
my  dear  Romaine,"  with  which  Colonel  Cor- 
bin  began  many  stories  that  never  came  to  a 
climax,  and  he  positively  declined  to  discuss 
anything  that  had  happened  more  than  twenty 
years  before.  In  fact  this  peculiarity  was  so 
marked  that  Letty  strongly  suspected  that 
the  old  gentleman's  memory  had  been  rigidly 
sawed  off  at  a  certain  period,  as  a  surgeon  cuts 
off  a  leg  at  the  knee-joint. 

The  Chessinghams  evidently  enjoyed  them- 
selves, and  the  utmost  cordiality  prevailed,  ex- 
cept between  the  two  girls,  who  eyed  each 
other  very  much  as  the  gladiators  might  have 
done  when  in  the  arena  for  the  fray.  Still 
they  were  perfectly  polite,  and  showed  a  truly 
feminine  capacity  for  pretty  hypocrisy.  Never- 
theless, when  the  luncheon  was  over  and  the 
party  separated,  Miss  Maywood  and  Miss 
Corbin  parted  with  cordial  sentiments  of  mu- 
tual disesteem.  Scarcely  were  the  two  sisters 
alone  at  the  hotel,  before  Miss  Maywood  burst 
forth  with,  "  Well,  Gladys,  I  suppose  you  see 
what  the  typical  American  girl  is !  Did  you 


68  A    STRANGE,  SAD    COMEDY 

ever  hear  anything  equal  to  Miss  Corbin's 
language  to  Mr.  Romaine  and  Sir  Archy  ? 
Actually  rating  them  !  And  then  the  next  mo- 
ment plying  them  with  the  most  outrageous 
flattery." 

"  And  yet,  Ethel,  she  seemed  to  please 
them,"  answered  Mrs.  Chessingham,  doubt- 
fully. "  But  I  was  a  little  scandalized,  I  ad- 
mit." 

"A  little  scandalized!  Now,  I  do  assure 
you,  leaving  out  of  account  altogether  any 
personal  grievance  about  these  two  particular 
men,  I  never  heard  a  girl  talk  so  to  men  in  all 
my  life." 

Ethel  told  the  truth  this  time  and  no  mis- 
take. 

"Nor  did  I,"  said  Mrs.  Chessingham.  "But 
perhaps  she  's  not  a  fair  type." 

"Did  n't  Sir  Archy  tell  us  she  was  the 
most  typical  American  that  he  has  yet  seen  ? 
And  does  n't  Mr.  Romaine  know  all  about  her 
family?  And  really,"  continued  Miss  May- 
wood,  getting  off  her  high  horse,  and  looking 
genuinely  puzzled,  "  I  scarcely  know  whether 
it  would  be  right  for  me  to  make  a  companion 
of  such  a  girl;  you  know  her  home  is  in  the 
same  county  as  Mr.  Romaine's  place,  quite 


A   STRANGE,   SAD   COMEDY  69 

near,  I  fancy  —  and  we  have  been  so  carefully 
brought  up  by  dear  mama,  and  so  often 
warned  against  associating  with  reckless  girls, 
that  I  am  not  quite  sure  that  we  ought  to 
know  her  when  we  go  to  Virginia." 

Here  Mrs.  Chessingham's  confidence  in 
Reggie  came  to  her  help. 

"Now  don't  say  that,  Ethel  dear.  Reggie 
thinks  her  a  charming  girl,  and  you  saw  for 
yourself  nobody  seemed  to  take  her  seriously 
except  ourselves,  so  the  best  thing  for  you  to 
do  is  to  go  on  quietly  and  be  guided  by  cir- 
cumstances." 

"  But  the  way  she  made  eyes !  "  said  Miss 
Maywood,  disgustedly.  "  It  's  perfectly  plain 
she  means  to  marry  either  Mr.  Romaine  or 
Sir  Archy  —  she  advertises  the  fact  so  plainly 
that  she  '11  probably  overshoot  the  mark.  At 
all  events,  I  shall  be  on  my  guard,  and  unless 
I  am  much  mistaken,  you  will  find  that  we 
can't  afford  to  know  her." 

Meanwhile  Letty,  in  the  little  sitting-room 
of  their  lodgings,  was  haranguing  Colonel 
Corbin  and  Miss  Jemima  upon  Miss  May- 
wood's  iniquities. 

"The  most  brazen  piece,  Aunt  Jemima,  ac- 
tually saying  that  any  girl  would  marry  that 


70  A    STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY 

old  pachyderm,  Mr.  Romaine !  I  would  n't 
marry  him  if  he  was  padded  an  inch  thick 
with  thousand-dollar  bills !  But  she  as  good 
as  said  she  would — and  the  way  he  poked  fun 
at  her !  She  agrees  with  everything  he  says, 
and  she  is  making  such  a  dead  set  at  him  that 
she  can't  see  the  old  gentleman's  game.  I  am 
perfectly  disgusted  with  her." 

At  the  first  mention  of  Mr.  Romaine's  name, 
a  faint  color  came  into  Miss  Jemima's  gentle, 
withered  face. 

"  Don't  speak  of  him  that  way,  Letty  dear," 
she  said.  "  He  was  a  charming  man  once. 
But,  perhaps,  my  love,  it  would  be  more  pru- 
dent for  you  to  avoid  Miss  Maywood.  Noth- 
ing is  more  dangerous  to  young  girls  than 
association  with  others  who  lack  modesty  and 
refinement,  as  you  represent  this  young  lady." 

"  I  '11  think  over  it,"  answered  the  prudent 
Letty,  who  at  that  moment  remembered  that 
they  were  all  going  to  the  country,  which  is 
dull  for  young  people  at  best,  and  a  new 
neighbor  is  a  distinct  godsend  not  to  be  trifled 
with.  But  in  her  heart  she  had  grave  doubts 
of  Miss  Maywood's  propriety. 


IV 


I 

|T  might  be  supposed  that  the  modest 
sum  of  money,  which  seemed  like 
a  million  to  Colonel  Corbin,  would 
have  been  used  in  paying  off  some  of  the  in- 
cumbrances  on  Corbin  Hall,  or  at  least  in  re- 
fitting some  part  of  it.  A  few  hundreds  might 
have  been  spent  very  judiciously  in  stopping 
up  the  chinks  and  crannies  of  the  house,  in 
replacing  the  worn  carpets  and  having  the 
rickety  old  furniture  mended.  But  far  were 
such  thoughts  from  the  Colonel,  Miss  Jemima, 
or  Letty.  Money  was  a  rare  and  unfamiliar 
commodity  to  all  of  them,  and  when  they  got 
any  of  it  they  wisely  spent  it  in  pleasuring. 
New  carpets  and  sound  furniture  were  not  in 
the  least  essential  to  these  simple  folk,  and 
would  have  altogether  spoiled  the  harmony 
of  the  comfortable  shabbiness  that  prevailed 
at  Corbin  Hall.  So  the  Colonel  proposed  to 
stop  a  month  or  two  in  New  York  in  order 


72  A   STRANGE,  SAD    COMEDY 

to  disburden  themselves  of  this  inconvenient 
amount  of  cash.  Farebrother  found  out  in- 
voluntarily, as  indeed  everybody  else  did,  the 
state  of  affairs,  and  he  took  positive  delight 
in  the  simplicity  and  primitiveness  of  these 
sweet  and  excellent  people,  to  whom  the  maj- 
esty of  the  dollar  was  so  utterly  unknown. 

So  admirably  had  Mr.  Romaine  got  on  with 
the  Corbin  party,  in  spite  of  the  Colonel's  con- 
tinual efforts  to  remind  him  of  the  time  when 
they  were  boys  together,  that  he  announced 
his  intention,  one  night,  upon  a  visit  to  the 
little  sitting-room  appropriated  to  the  Chess- 
inghams,  of  going  to  New  York  the  same 
time  the  Corbins  did,  and  staying  at  the  same 
old-fashioned  but  aristocratic  hotel.  The  two 
young  women  were  sitting  under  the  drop- 
light,  each  with  the  inevitable  piece  of  fancy 
work  in  her  hand  that  is  so  necessary  to  the 
complete  existence  of  an  English  woman. 
Mrs.  Chessingham  glanced  at  Ethel,  whose 
fine,  white  skin  grew  a  little  pale. 

Mr.  Romaine  sat  watching  her  with  some- 
thing like  a  malicious  smile  upon  his  delicate, 
highbred  old  face.  He  did  not  often  bestow 
his  company  upon  his  suite,  as  Letty  wickedly 
called  his  party.  He  traveled  in  extravagant 


A   STRANGE,  SAD    COMEDY  73 

luxury,  and  what  with  his  own  room,  his  sit- 
ting-room and  his  valet's  room,  and  the  apart- 
ments furnished  the  Chessinghams  and  Miss 
Maywood,  it  really  did  seem  a  marvel  some- 
times, as  Ethel  Maywood  said,  how  anybody 
could  pay  such  bills.  But  he  did  pay  them, 
promptly  and  ungrudgingly.  Nobody  —  not 
Chessingham  himself — knew  how  Mr.  Ro- 
maine's  money  came  or  how  much  he  had. 
Nor  did  Mr.  Romaine's  relatives,  of  whom  he 
had  large  tribes  and  clans  in  Virginia,  know 
any  more  on  this  interesting  subject.  They 
would  all  have  liked  to  know,  not  only  where 
it  came  from,  but  where  it  was  going  to.  Not 
the  slightest  hint,  however,  had  been  got  from 
Mr.  Romaine  during  his  forty  years'  sojourn 
on  the  other  side.  Nor  did  his  unlooked-for 
return  to  his  native  land  incline  him  any  more 
to  confidences  about  his  finances.  There  was 
a  cheque-book  always  at  hand,  and  Mr.  Ro- 
maine paid  his  score  with  a  lofty  indifference 
to  detail  that  was  delightful  to  women's  souls, 
particularly  to  Mrs.  Chessingham  and  Miss 
Maywood.  Both  of  them  were  scrupulously 
honest  women,  and  not  disposed  in  the  slight- 
est degree  to  impose  upon  him.  But  if  he 
found  out  by  accident  that  they  had  walked 


74  A    STRANGE,   SAD    COMEDY 

when  they  might  have  driven,  or  had  paid  for 
the  carnage  themselves,  or  had  in  any  way  paid 
a  bill  that  might  have  been  charged  to  him,  he 
always  chided  them  gently,  and  declared  that 
if  it  happened  again  all  would  be  over  between 
Chessingham  and  himself.  This  charming 
peculiarity  had  caused  Ethel  to  say  very  often 
to  her  sister  : 

"  Although  one  would  much  rather  marry 
an  Englishman  than  an  American,  I  don't  be- 
lieve any  Englishman  alive  would  be  so  in- 
dulgent to  a  woman  as  Mr.  Romaine  would 
be.  I  have  never  known  any  married  woman 
made  so  free  of  her  husband's  money  as  we 
are  with  Mr.  Romaine's,  and  if  he  does  offer 
himself,  I  am  sure  he  will  make  most  unheard- 
of  settlements." 

But  when  Mr.  Romaine,  sitting  back  in  a 
dark  velvet  chair  which  showed  off  his  face, 
clear  cut  as  a  cameo,  with  his  superb  black 
eyes  shining  full  of  meaning,  spoke  of  the 
New  York  trip,  Ethel  began  to  think  that 
there  was  no  longer  any  hope  of  that  offer. 
She  remained  silent,  but  Mrs.  Chessingham, 
with  a  pitying  glance  at  her  sister,  said  resign- 
edly, "  It  will  be  very  pleasant,  no  doubt. 
The  glimpse  we  had  of  New  York  when  we 


A   STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY  75 

landed  was  scarcely  enough  for  so  large  a 
place." 

"It  is  quite  a  large  place,"  answered  Mr. 
Romaine,  gravely.  "  How  large  should  you 
take  it  to  be? "  he  asked  Miss  May  wood. 

"About  two  or  three  hundred  thousand," 
replied  Ethel,  dubiously. 

"  There  are  four  million  people  within  a 
radius  often  miles  of  New  York's  City  Hall. 
Good  night,"  said  Mr.  Romaine,  with  much 
suavity,  rising  and  going. 

When  he  was  out  of  the  door  Mrs.  Chess- 
irigham  spoke  up  promptly :  "  What  a  story ! 
I  don't  believe  a  word  of  it." 

"  Of  course  it  is  n't  true,"  complained  Ethel, 
"but  that  is  the  worst  of  Americans — you 
never  can  tell  when  they  are  joking  and  when 
they  are  n't.  As  for  Miss  Corbin,  I  simply  can't 
understand  her  at  all.  However,  this  move  of 
Mr.  Romaine's  settles  one  thing.  Miss  Cor- 
bin will  be  Mrs.  Romaine,  mark  my  words." 

"  Reggie  says  that  there  is  positively  noth- 
ing in  it ;  that  Mr.  Romaine  likes  her,  and  is 
amused  by  her.  She  is  amusing." 

"Yes,  I  know  she  is,"  replied  Ethel,  rue- 
fully, with  something  like  tears  in  her  voice  at 
the  admission. 


76  A    STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY 

"  And  he  says  that  she  would  n't  marry  Mr. 
Romaine  to  save  his  life  —  and  that  he  has 
heard  her  laugh  at  the  idea." 

"  That  only  shows,  Gladys  dear,  how  blind 
Reggie  is,  like  the  rest  of  his  sex.  Of  course 
Miss  Corbin  protests  that  she  does  n't  want 
Mr.  Romaine.  She  did  the  equivalent  to  it 
the  very  first  talk  we  ever  had  together,  that 
day  at  the  Casino.  But  I  did  n't  believe 
her,  and  what  shocked  me  was  her  want  of 
candor.  The  notion  of  a  girl  who  does  n't 
want  money  and  position  is  entirely  too  great 
a  strain  on  my  credulity.  I  suppose  she  '11  say 
next  that  she  does  n't  want  to  be  Lady  Corbin 
and  live  at  Fox  Court.  I  think  it  's  much 
better  to  be  truthful  about  things." 

"So  do  I,  dear.  But  my  own  belief  is  that 
she  really  likes  Mr.  Farebrother  best  of  all." 

"Nonsense,"  cried  Ethel,  sharply.  "Mr. 
Farebrother  could  n't  begin  to  give  her  Sir 
Archy's  position  or  Mr.  Romaine's  money. 
He  's  an  architect,  with  about  enough  to  live 
on  after  his  father's  fortune  is  cut  up  into  six 
or  seven  parts.  Not  that  I  pretend  to  despise 
Mr.  Farebrother;  I  am  truthful  in  all  things, 
and  I  think  he  's  a  very  presentable,  pleasant 
man,  and  would  be  a  good  match.  But  to 


A   STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY  77 

suppose  that  any  girl  in  her  senses  would  take 
him  in  preference  to  Mr.  Romaine  or  Sir  Ar- 
chibald Corbin  is  too  wildly  grotesque  for 
anything.  I  '11  follow  Mr.  Romaine's  example 
and  say  good-night."  And  off  she  went. 

Sir  Archy  had  begun  to  find  Newport 
pleasanter  day  by  day.  He  had  wearied  in 
the  beginning  of  the  adulation  paid  to  his  title 
and  his  money,  and  it  soon  came  to  be  under- 
stood that  he  was  not  in  the  market,  so  to 
speak.  He  found  the  Farebrother  girls  pleas- 
ant and  amiable,  and  showed  them  some  at- 
tention. As  he  showed  none  whatever  to  any 
other  of  the  cottage  girls,  nor  did  he  go  to 
any  except  to  the  Farebrothers'  villa,  the 
family  were  credited  with  having  laid  a  deep 
scheme  to  monopolize  him.  The  real  state 
of  the  case  was  too  simple  to  be  understood 
by  artificial  people. 

Then  he  had  an  agreeable  sense  of  fa- 
miliarity with  Mrs.  Chessingham  and  Miss 
Maywood.  They  were  really  well  bred  and 
well  educated  English  gentlewomen.  Ethel's 
aloneness  had  perhaps  developed  rather  too 
sharply  her  aspirations  toward  an  establish- 
ment of  her  own,  but  that  is  a  not  uncommon 
thing  among  women,  and  the  terrible  English 


78  A   STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY 

frankness  brings  it  to  the  front  without  any 
disguises  whatever.  Sir  Archy,  though,  knew 
how  to  take  care  of  himself  among  his  own 
countrywomen,  as  Englishmen  do.  But  he 
was  like  clay  in  the  hands  of  the  potter  where 
his  American  cousin,  as  he  persisted  in  calling 
Letty  Corbin,  was  concerned. 

Whether  Letty  was  extravagantly  fond  of 
him  or  utterly  detested  him  he  could  not  for 
the  life  of  him  discern.  He  did  discover  un- 
mistakably, though,  that  she  was  a  very  charm- 
ing girl.  Her  frankness,  so  different  from 
Ethel  Maywood's  frankness,  was  perfectly  be- 
witching. She  acknowledged  with  the  ut- 
most candor  her  fondness  for  admiration, — her 
willingness  to  swallow  not  only  the  bait  of 
flattery,  but  the  hook,  bob,  sinker,  and  all, — 
and  calmly  related  the  details  of  her  various 
forms  of  coquetry.  Thus  she  possessed  the 
charm  of  both  art  and  simplicity,  but,  as  the 
case  is  with  her  genus,  when  she  fancied  she 
was  artful  she  was  very  simple,  and  when  she 
meant  to  be  very  simple  she  was  extremely 
artful. 

But  she  was  a  delightful  and  never  ending 
puzzle  to  Sir  Archy.  He  was  manly,  clever, 
and  modest,  but  deep  down  in  his  heart  was 


A    STRANGE,  SAD    COMEDY  79 

fixed  that  ineradicable  masculine  delusion  that 
he  was,  after  all,  a  very  desirable  fellow  for 
any  girl ;  and  his  money  and  his  title  had 
always  been  treated  as  such  outward  and  vis- 
ible signs  of  an  inward  and  spiritual  grace, 
that  he  would  have  been  more  or  less  than 
human  if  he  had  not  been  sanguine  of  success 
if  ever  he  really  put  his  mind  to  winning  any 
girl.  But  Letty  was  a  conundrum  to  him  of 
the  sort  that  it  is  said  drove  old  Homer  to 
suicide  because  he  could  not  solve  it. 

Farebrother,  however,  understood  Letty 
and  Sir  Archy  and  the  Romaine  party  per- 
fectly, and  the  little  comedy  played  before  his 
eyes  had  a  profound  interest  for  him.  When 
he  heard  of  Mr.  Romaine's  decision  to  go  to 
New  York  and  stay  at  the  same  hotel  with 
the  Corbins,  he  chuckled  and  shrewdly  sus- 
pected that  Mr.  Romaine  had  in  mind  more 
Miss  Maywood's  discomfiture  than  Miss  Cor- 
bin's  satisfaction.  He  chuckled  more  than 
ever  when,  on  the  evening  he  went  to  see 
the  Corbins  off  on  the  boat,  he  found  the  Ro- 
maine party  likewise  established  on  deck  with 
Mr.  Romaine's  valet  and  Mrs.  Chessingham's 
maid  superintending  the  transfer  of  a  van-load 
of  trunks  to  the  steamer. 


8o 

They  were  all  sitting  together  on  the  upper 
deck  when  Farebrother  appeared.  He  car- 
ried three  bouquets  exactly  alike,  which  he 
handed  respectively  to  Mrs.  Chessingham, 
Miss  Maywood,  and  Letty.  Miss  Maywood 
colored  beautifully  under  the  thin  gray  veil 
drawn  over  her  handsome,  aquiline  features. 
Mrs.  Chessingham  smiled  prettily,  but  Letty's 
face  was  a  study.  A  thundercloud  would 
have  been  more  amiable.  Farebrother,  how- 
ever, was  not  in  the  least  disconcerted,  but 
went  over  to  her  and  smiled  at  her  in  a  very 
exasperating  manner. 

"  So  kind  of  you  to  give  us  all  bouquets 
alike,"  began  Letty,  scornfully. 

Meanwhile,  in  order  to  keep  her  chagrin 
from  being  obvious  to  Ethel  and  Mrs.  Chess- 
ingham, who  would  by  no  means  have  under- 
stood her  particularity  about  attentions,  she 
was  cuddling  the  bouquet  as  if  it  were  a  real 
treasure. 

"  I  suppose  your  feeble  intelligence  was  not 
equal  to  inventing  three  separate  bouquets  for 
one  occasion,"  she  continued,  frowning  at  the 
offender. 

"  Yes,  it  was,"  answered  Farebrother, 
stoutly.  "  I  knew  though  that  it  would  thor- 


A   STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY  81 

oughly  exasperate  you,  so  I  did  it  on  pur- 
pose." 

At  this  candid  defiance  Letty's  scowl  dis- 
solved into  a  smile. 

"  I  like  your  childlike  innocence,"  she  re- 
marked, "and  the  way  you  avow  your  dis- 
honest motives.  And  I  like  a  man  who  is  a 
match  for  me.  I  was  going  to  give  the 
wretched  nosegay  to  the  stewardess,  but  now 
I  '11  keep  it  as  a  souvenir  of  your  delightful 
impertinence." 

"Thank  you,"  responded  Farebrother  po- 
litely. There  was  still  half  an  hour  before  the 
boat  started,  and  all  three  of  the  young  wo- 
men felt  a  degree  of  secret  anxiety  as  to 
whether  Sir  Archy  Corbin  would  be  on  hand 
to  bid  them  good-by.  He  had  spoken  vaguely 
of  seeing  them  again,  and  had  accepted  Col- 
onel Corbin's  elaborate  invitation  to  make  a 
visit  at  Corbin  Hall,  but  whether  he  would 
depart  far  enough  from  his  British  caution  in 
dealing  with  marriageable  young  women  to 
see  them  off  on  the  boat,  was  highly  uncer- 
tain. 

Miss  Maywood,  being  an  eminently  reason- 
able girl,  did  not  fix  her  hopes  too  high,  and 
thought  that  to  be  Lady  Corbin  was  too  good 


82  A   STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY 

to  be  true.  Yet  it  was  undeniable  that  he 
seemed  to  like  her,  and  in  this  extraordinary 
country,  where,  according  to  her  ideas,  there 
was  a  scandalous  laxity  regarding  the  value 
of  attentions,  Sir  Archy  might  fall  into  the 
prevailing  ways.  So  she  kept  her  weather 
eye  open,  in  spite  of  the  presence  of  Mr.  Ro- 
maine,  who  sat  a  little  distance  off  slyly  watch- 
ing the  bouquet  episode  and  Farebrother. 

Letty  considered  Mr.  Romaine  merely  in 
the  light  of  an  interesting  fossil,  but  she  felt 
a  characteristic  desire  to  monopolize  Fare- 
brother.  Besides,  at  the  bottom  of  her  heart 
was  a  genuine  admiration  for  him,  and  she 
felt  a  sentimental  tenderness  at  the  parting 
which  she  fully  expected  him  to  share.  But 
Farebrother  was  irritatingly  unresponsive.  He 
divided  his  attentions  among  the  three  women 
with  what  was  to  Letty  the  most  infuriating 
impartiality.  Nor  did  he  show  the  downcast 
spirits  which  she  fully  expected,  and  alto- 
gether his  behavior  was  inexplicable  and  un- 
satisfactory. 

Letty,  however,  determined,  as  the  severest 
punishment  she  could  inflict,  to  be  very  de- 
bonair with  him,  and  when  at  last  he  seated 
himself  in  the  camp  chair  next  hers,  she  be- 


A    STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY  83 

gan  upon  a  flippant  subject  which  she  thought 
would  let  Farebrother  see  that  the  parting 
was  as  little  to  her  as  to  him. 

"When  I  get  to  New  York  I  shall  have 
some  money  of  my  own  to  spend,  and  I  have 
been  wondering  what  I  shall  do  with  it,"  she 
said,  gravely. 

"  I  am  glad  to  see  you  appreciate  your  re- 
sponsibilities," answered  Farebrother. 

"  Now  I  know  you  are  making  fun  of  me," 
said  Letty,  calmly.  "But  I  don't  mind.  In 
the  first  place,  I  would  like  to  buy  two  stained 
glass  windows  for  the  church  which  you  mis- 
erable Yankees  wrecked  during  the  war.  Have 
you  any  idea  of  the  price  of  stained  glass 
windows  ?  " 

"  I  think  they  run  from  fifteen  dollars  up  to 
twenty  or  thirty  thousand." 

"  I  should  n't  get  a  thirty  thousand  dollar 
one,  at  all  events.  Then  I  must  have  a  com- 
plete new  riding  outfit  for  myself.  This  comes 
of  going  to  Newport.  Before  that  I  thought 
my  riding-skirt,  saddle,  and  bridle  quite  good 
enough,  but  now  I  yearn  for  a  tailor  made 
habit  and  all  the  etceteras.  How  much  do 
you  think  that  will  cost  ?  However,  it 's  not 
worth  while  to  ask  you,  for  you  would  n't  be 


84  A   STRANGE,   SAD    COMEDY 

likely  to  know.   And  if  you  knew,  you  would  n't 
tell  me  the  truth." 

"  Again — thanks." 

"And  of  course  I  want  some  clothes — 
swell  gowns  like  those  I  saw  at  Newport. 
And  my  mother's  watch  is  past  repairing  any 
more,  and  my  piano  is  on  its  last  legs,  and  I 
promised  to  bring  dear  Mrs.  Gary,  our  next 
neighbor,  an  easy-chair  for  a  present,  and  of 
course  I  shall  have  to  carry  Dad  Davy  and 
all  the  other  servants  something  nice,  and  I 
must  make  a  little  gift  to  Aunt  Jemima,  and, 
and — I  'm  afraid  my  money  won't  hold  out." 

"  Don't  give  up,"  said  Farebrother,  encour- 
agingly. "  Leave  out  the  swell  gowns,  and 
the  watch,  and  the  piano,  and  the  riding  habit, 
and  I  daresay  you  '11  have  enough  left  for  the 
rest." 

"What  do  you  take  me  for?  To  get 
nothing  for  myself?  Please  understand  I  am 
not  so  foolish  as  I  look.  But,  perhaps,  after 
all,  I  won't  buy  any  of  those  things,  and  I 
will  lay  it  all  out  in  a  pair  of  pearl  bracelets 
to  match  my  mother's  necklace,  and  trust  to 
luck  to  get  another  windfall  at  some  time  dur- 
ing my  sojourn  in  this  vale  of  tears." 

But  Farebrother,  who  professed  to  be  deeply 


A   STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY  85 

interested  in  this  scheme  for  squandering  a 
fortune,  would  not  let  the  subject  drop.  He 
drew  Miss  Maywood  into  the  conversation, 
and  although  the  two  girls  cordially  disliked 
each  other,  they  were  too  ladylike  to  show  it, 
and  they  had  in  mind  the  prospect  of  spend- 
ing some  months  in  a  lonely  country  neigh- 
borhood, when  each  might  find  the  other  a 
resource. 

"  I  should  think,  dear,"  said  the  literal  Ethel, 
in  her  sweet,  slow  English  voice,  "  that  it 
would  be  impossible  to  buy  half  the  things 
you  are  thinking  of  out  of  that  much  money, 
and  everything  is  so  ruinously  dear  in  New 
York,  I  understand." 

"  Oh,"  answered  Letty,  airily,  "  it  's  not  the 
impossibility  of  the  thing  that  puzzles  me ;  it 
is  the  making  up  of  my  mind  as  to  which  one 
of  the  impossibilities  I  shall  finally  conclude  to 
achieve." 

Miss  Maywood  thought  this  a  very  flippant 
way  of  talking,  but  all  American  girls  were 
distressingly  flippant,  except  the  sham  Eng- 
lish ones  that  she  met  at  Newport,  who  were 
distressingly  serious.  And  then  in  a  moment 
or  two  more  a  genuine  sensation  occurred. 
Sir  Archy  appeared,  red  but  triumphant,  fol- 


86  A   STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY 

lowed  by  his  man,  and  both  of  them  loaded 
down  with  gun-cases,  hat-boxes,  fishing-reels, 
packing-cases,  mackintoshes,  sticks,  umbrellas, 
traveling-rugs  and  pillows,  guide-books  and 
all  the  vast  impedimenta  with  which  an  Eng- 
lishman prepares  for  a  twelve  hours'  trip  as 
if  he  were  going  to  the  antarctic  circle. 

Everybody  was  surprised  to  see  him,  and 
to  see  him  in  that  guise.  Mrs.  Chessingham 
opened  her  eyes,  the  ever  ready  blood  flew 
into  Ethel's  fair  face,  while  Letty  uttered  an 
exclamation  of  surprise.  • 

"You  here!"  she  cried. 

"Yes,"  sighed  Sir  Archy,  beginning  to  pitch 
down  his  sticks,  umbrellas  and  mackintoshes, 
while  he  heaped  a  whole  cartload  of  other 
things  upon  the  patient  valet.  "  I  made  up 
my  mind  at  the  last  moment  that  it  would  be 
deucedly  dull  without  all  of  you,  and  here  I 
am." 

Mr.  Romaine,  who  had  been  sitting  at  a 
little  distance,  now  advanced,  his  eyes  gleam- 
ing with  a  Mephistophelian  amusement.  In 
traveling  costume,  his  make-up  was  no  less 
complete  than  in  full  evening  dress.  His  per- 
fectly fitting  ulster  was  buttoned  closely  around 
his  slight  figure ;  his  usual  gray  hat  was  re- 


A   STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY  87 

placed  by  a  correct  traveling-cap ;  his  dog- 
skin gloves  fitted  without  a  wrinkle.  He  took 
in  at  once  the  sensation  Sir  Archy's  unex- 
pected appearance  would  create  in  the  femi- 
nine contingent  of  the  party,  and  he  wanted 
to  be  on  hand  to  enjoy  it. 

"  We  are  very  pleased  to  have  your  com- 
pany, Sir  Archy,"  he  said,  blandly,  "and  still 
more  so  if  you  intend  patronizing  the  same 
hotel  that  we  shall  in  New  York." 

"  Thank  you,"  answered  Sir  Archy,  heartily. 
"  I  had  intended  to  do  so,  having  been  recom- 
mended by  Colonel  Corbin." 

Just  then  the  Colonel  appeared. 

"  Why,  my  dear  fellow,"  he  cried,  in  his  rich, 
cordial  voice.  "This  is  truly  gratifying.  I 
thought  when  I  bade  you  farewell  this  morn- 
ing it  was  for  a  considerable  period,  until  you 
paid  us  that  promised  visit  at  Corbin  Hall," 
for  the  Colonel  had  become  completely  recon- 
ciled to  Sir  Archy,  and  had  generously  over- 
looked his  experiences  during  the  war. 

"Yes,"  said  Sir  Archy,  cheerfully,  "I  was 
afraid  I  'd  be  a  horrid  bore,  following  you  all 
up  this  way,  but  I  felt  so  dismal  after  I  had 
told  you  good-by — swore  so  hard  at  Tomp- 
kins,  and  made  a  brute  of  myself  generally — 


88  A   STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY 

that  at  last  I  concluded  I  'd  better  pull  up 
stakes  and  quit." 

"  Nothing  could  have  been  more  judicious, 
my  young  kinsman,"  responded  the  Colonel, 
"  and  these  ladies,  I  am  sure,  are  the  magnets 
that  have  drawn  you  to  us." 

"Are  you  quite  sure  of  that,  Corbin?" 
asked  Mr.  Romaine,  with  a  foxy  smile.  "Some- 
times a  cow  does  not  like  to  be  chased  by  a 
haystack." 

Sir  Archy,  still  busy  with  his  traps,  did  not 
take  this  in.  Ethel  Maywood  did  not  contra- 
dict it  at  all.  She  never  took  issue  with  Mr. 
Romaine,  but  Letty  flushed  angrily.  She 
concluded  then  that  Mr.  Romaine  was  very 
old  and  very  disagreeable. 

Farebrother  was  still  lingering,  although  the 
first  whistle  had  already  blown.  It  was  about 
nine  o'clock  on  a  lovely  September  evening. 
The  moon  had  risen,  and  a  pale,  opaline  glow 
still  lingered  on  sea  and  sky,  bathing  the 
harbor  and  the  white  walled  fort  and  a  fleet 
of  yachts  in  its  magic  light.  The  scene  and 
the  hour  melted  Letty.  She  had  been  very 
happy  at  Newport.  Usually,  the  first  taste  a 
provincial  gets  of  the  great  world  beyond  is 
bitter  in  the  mouth,  but  her  experiences  had 


A   STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY  89 

been  rather  happy,  and  of  all  the  men  she  met, 
Farebrother,  whose  father  had  made  his  money 
in  wines  and  liquors,  and  who  had  conscien- 
tious scruples  against  making  money,  had 
impressed  her  the  most.  With  the  easy  con- 
fidence born  of  youthful  vanity,  and  the  sim- 
plicity of  a  provincial  girl,  Letty  fancied  that 
Farebrother  would  turn  up  at  Corbin  Hall 
within  a  month,  unable  to  keep  away  from  her 
longer.  But  at  the  actual  moment  of  saying 
good-by,  some  lines  she  had  once  heard  came 
back  to  her — "A  chord  is  snapped  asunder 
at  every  parting" — some  faint  doubt,  whether, 
after  all,  he  cared  enough  about  her  to  seek 
her  out,  crossed  her  mind.  Farebrother  caught 
her  eyes  fixed  on  him  with  a  new  light  in  them. 
He  had  begun  then  to  make  his  good-bys. 
Ethel  Maywood  only  felt  that  general  regret 
at  parting  with  him  that  she  always  felt  at 
seeing  the  last  of  an  eligible  man — but  the 
presence  of  Mr.  Romaine  and  Sir  Archy  Cor- 
bin was  more  than  enough  to  console  her. 
All  the  others,  though,  were  genuinely  sorry 
— he  was  so  bright,  so  full  of  good  fellowship, 
such  a  capital  fellow  all  around. 

The  Colonel  wrung  his  hand  for  five  min- 
utes.    He  gave  Farebrother  seven  separate 


90  A    STRANGE,  SAD    COMEDY 

invitations  to  visit  them  at  Corbin  Hall,  each 
more  pressing  than  the  last ;  he  sent  his  re- 
gards to  everything  at  the  Farebrother  cot- 
tage, including  the  butler.  "A  very  worthy 
man,  although  in  an  humble  station  in  life, 
and  particularly  attentive  to  me  whenever  I 
availed  myself  of  your  noble  hospitality,  so 
that  I  did  not  feel  the  want  of  my  own  serving 
man,  David,  who  is  equally  worthy,  although 
a  great  fool." 

Miss  Jemima  pressed  Farebrother's  hand 
warmly,  and  promised  to  send  him  a  gallon 
of  a  particular  kind  of  peach  cordial  which  she 
knew  was  very  superior  to  the  trashy  imported 
cordial  he  had  been  reduced  to  drinking. 

Letty  said  nothing,  but  when  Farebrother 
came  to  say  good-by  to  her,  she  made  a  deft 
movement  that  took  them  off  a  little  to  them- 
selves, where  a  word  might  be  said  in  private 
without  the  others  hearing  it. 

"Good-by,"  she  said,  in  a  voice  with  a  real 
thrill  in  it,  such  as  Farebrother  had  never 
heard  before. 

He  had  heard  her  in  earnest  about  books, 
politics,  religion,  and  numerous  other  subjects, 
but  seriousness  in  her  tone  with  men,  and  es- 
pecially with  men  who  admired  her,  was  some- 


A   STRANGE,  SAD    COMEDY  91 

thing  new.  He  held  her  slim  gloved  hand  in 
his,  and  he  felt  the  light  pressure  of  her  fin- 
gers as  she  said  quickly,  in  a  low  voice : 

"  I  sha'n't  forget  your  goodness  to  me.  I 
hope  we  shall  meet  again." 

"  I  hope  so  too,"  answered  Farebrother, 
laughing. 

The  extreme  cheeriness  of  his  tone  grated 
upon  Letty.  She  tried  to  withdraw  her  hand, 
but  Farebrother  held  on  to  it  stoutly.  A 
change,  too,  came  over  him.  His  bright, 
strong  face  grew  tender,  and  he  looked  at 
Letty  with  a  glance  so  piercing  that  it  forced 
her  to  meet  his  gaze  and  then  forced  her  to 
drop  her  eyes. 

"We  shall  meet  again,  and  soon,  if  I  can 
compass  it ;  and  meanwhile,  will  you  promise 
not  to  forget  me  ? " 

A  hubbub  of  talk  had  been  around  them. 
The  tramp  of  the  last  belated  ones  hurrying 
across  the  gang-plank,  and  the  screaming  of 
the  whistle  made  a  commotion  that  drowned 
their  voices  except  for  each  other. 

"  I  promise,"  said  Letty,  her  heart  begin- 
ning to  beat  and  her  cheeks  to  flush. 

She  was  very  emotional  and  she  was  con- 
scious that  her  eyes  were  filling  with  tears 


92  A    STRANGE,  SAD    COMEDY 

and  her  throat  was  beginning  to  throb,  and 
she  wanted  Farebrother  to  go  before  she  be- 
trayed herself. 

"  Good-by,  and  God  bless  you,"  he  said, 
with  one  last  pressure  of  the  hand. 

By  that  time  the  gang-plank  was  being 
hauled  in.  Farebrother  swung  himself  over 
the  rail  to  the  deck  below,  ran  along  the 
steamer's  gangway,  and  just  as  the  blue  water 
showed  between  the  great  hull  and  the  dock, 
he  cleared  it  at  a  bound  and  stood  on  the  pier 
waving  his  hat.  The  gigantic  steamer  moved 
majestically  out,  while  handkerchiefs  fluttered 
from  her  decks  and  from  the  dock.  It  was 
now  almost  dark,  but  as  they  steamed  quickly 
out  into  the  moonlit  bay,  Letty  fancied  she 
could  still  distinguish  Farebrother's  athletic 
figure  in  the  shadowy  darkness  that  quickly 
descended  upon  the  shore. 


V 


'EXT  morning,  after  the  usual  tussle 
and  struggle  for  their  luggage,  in 
which  the  whole  party,  including 
Mr.  Romaine's  valet,  Sir  Archy's  man  and 
Miss  Maywood's  and  Mrs.  Chessingham's 
maid  took  part,  they  were  all  driven  up  to  the 
old-fashioned  "before  the  war"  hotel  where 
they  had  all  engaged  quarters. 

Those  for  Mr.  Romaine  and  his  party  were 
of  course  the  finest  in  the  house,  on  the  draw- 
ing-room floor,  and  the  best  corner  rooms. 
Sir  Archy  cared  very  little  where  he  was  put, 
except  that  his  rooms  must  be  large  and  have 
a  bath,  at  which  he  never  ceased  to  grumble, 
because  there  were  not  shower  baths,  Turkish 
baths,  Russian  baths,  and  every  other  arrange- 
ment provided  for  all  varieties  of  bathing. 

Colonel  Corbin,  having  in  hand  what  he 
considered  a  magnificent  sum  of  money,  less  a 
considerable  hole  in  it  made  by  prolonging 

93 


94  A   STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY 

his  stay  at  Newport,  and  a  present  to  Letty 
and  a  like  sum  to  Miss  Jemima,  established 
himself  en  prince.  He  had  a  bed-room  and 
sitting-room  for  himself,  besides  the  bed- 
rooms and  sitting-room  for  Miss  Jemima  and 
Letty.  He  insisted  upon  having  their  meals 
served  in  private,  but  at  this  Letty  flatly  re- 
belled. Go  to  the  public  dining-room  she 
would,  to  see  and  be  seen.  The  Colonel  was 
no  match  for  Letty  when  she  really  put  forth 
her  prowess — for  liberty  or  death  was  that 
young  woman's  motto  —  and  in  an  hour  or 
two  after  their  arrival  at  the  hotel,  he  very 
obediently  followed  her  down  to  the  great 
red-carpeted  room,  where  all  the  lazy  peo- 
ple in  the  hotel  wrere  taking  a  ten  o'clock 
breakfast. 

Letty  looked  uncommonly  charming  in  her 
simple,  well-fitting  gown  of  dark  blue,  and 
masculine  eyes  were  pretty  generally  turned 
on  her  as  she  entered.  But  the  Colonel  at- 
tracted still  more  attention.  As  he  stalked  in 
the  great  open  doorway  the  head  waiter,  as 
imposing  as  only  a  black  head  waiter  can  be, 
suddenly  exclaimed: 

"  Hi !  Good  Lord  A'mighty !  Ef  dis  heah 
ain'  Marse  Colonel !  " 


A   STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY  95 

The  Colonel  recognized  his  friend  in  an 
instant,  and  extended  his  hand  cordially. 

"Why,  bless  my  soul!  If  it  is  n't  Black 
Peter,  that  used  to  be  Tom  Lightfoot's  body 
servant !  How  do  you  do?  how  do  you  do?" 

By  that  time  they  were  sawing  the  air  with 
mutual  delight. 

"  An'  ter  think  I  done  live  ter  see  Marse 
Colonel  agin  !  An'  how  is  all  de  folks  ?  How 
ole  missis,  and  Miss  Sally  Lightfoot,  and  little 
Marse  Torm  ? " 

"  Admirably,  admirably  well,"  cried  the 
Colonel,  beginning  to  give  all  the  particulars 
of  ole  missis,  Miss  Sally,  little  Marse  Torm, 
etc.,  in  his  big  baritone.  The  people  all  turned 
toward  the  Colonel  and  his  long-lost  friend, 
and  everybody  smiled.  Letty,  not  at  all  con- 
fused, stood  by  her  grandfather's  side  and  put 
her  hand  into  Black  Peter's  paw. 

Peter  was  extremely  elegant,  after  an  an- 
tique pattern,  not  unlike  the  Colonel's  own, 
and  proud  to  be  recognized  as  a  friend  by  "de 
fust  quality." 

He  escorted  Colonel  Corbin  and  Letty  to 
the  most  prominent  table  in  the  room,  called 
up  half  a  dozen  waiters  to  take  their  orders, 
and  succeeded  in  making  everybody  in  the 


96  A   STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY 

great  room  see  and  hear  what  was  going  on. 
He  was  at  last  obliged  to  tear  himself  away, 
and  the  Colonel,  while  waiting  for  breakfast, 
suddenly  remembering  that  he  must  go  to  the 
office  to  inquire  after  the  health  of  the  room- 
clerk,  who  was  also  an  old  acquaintance,  he 
left  Letty  alone  for  a  moment,  while  he  stalked 
out,  magnificently. 

Letty  had  picked  up  the  newspaper  and 
was  deep  in  an  editorial  on  the  tariff,  when 
she  realized  that  some  one  was  approaching, 
and  the  next  moment  Farebrother  drew  a 
chair  up  to  hers. 

For  a  moment  she  was  too  astonished  to 
speak,  and  simply  stared  at  him,  upon  which 
Farebrother  began  laughing. 

"  W-where  did  you  come  from  ?  "  she  cried, 
breathlessly. 

"  From  Newport,"  answered  Farebrother, 
still  laughing  at  Letty's  face. 

"And  how  did  you  come?" 

"  By  train.  Do  you  suppose  when  I  saw 
Sir  Archy  turn  up,  to  come  down  here,  that  I 
meant  to  be  left  in  the  lurch?  So  I  made  up 
my  mind  in  a  jiffy,  threw  a  few  things  in  my 
bag,  and  made  the  ten  o'clock  train;  lovely 
night  going  down,  was  n't  it?". 


A    STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY  97 

"  Yes,"  answered  Letty,  who  was  instantly 
armed  with  the  whole  panoply  of  coquetry, 
"lovely.  I  sat  out  on  deck  two  hours  with 
Sir  Archy." 

"  That  was  a  pretty  good  stretch  for  a  fel- 
low. There  are  very  few  girls  who  can  hold 
a  man's  attention  that  long,  and  it  's  rather  a 
dangerous  thing  to  try,"  said  Farebrother, 
with  calm  assurance. 

"  We  had  a  very  interesting  time,"  answered 
Letty,  stiffly. 

"  Oh,  yes,  I  know  how  an  Englishman  talks 
to  a  girl  by  moonlight.  Tells  her  about  sheep 
farming,  or  how  he  hooked  a  salmon  in  the 
Highlands,  or  killed  a  pig  in  India." 

"  Our  conversation  was  a  little  on  that 
order,"  replied  Letty,  weakly.  "  But  it  is  a 
relief  to  meet  with  a  man  who  can  withstand 
the  influences  of  the  moon  and  talk  sense." 

"  I  never  could,"  said  Farebrother,  and  then 
he  asked  for  Miss  Jemima  and  the  rest  of  the 
party.  Letty  explained  that  Mr.  Romaine 
and  the  Chessinghams  preferred  their  meals 
in  their  rooms,  and  the  Colonel  proposed  the 
same  thing  to  her,  but  she  objected,  first,  be- 
cause she  liked  the  liveliness  of  the  public 
dining-room,  and  secondly,  because  it  cost 


98  A   STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY 

more,  and  she  did  n'tbelieve  in  spending  money 
to  make  one's  self  lonely  and  uncomfortable, 
which  could  generally  be  done  for  nothing. 

Presently  the  Colonel  reappeared,  and  was 
delighted  to  see  Farebrother,  whose  arrival 
did  not  surprise  him  in  the  least.  Farebrother, 
who  was  astute,  immediately  made  a  series  of 
engagements  with  the  Colonel  and  Miss  Je- 
mima and  Letty  for  a  drive  in  Central  Park, 
a  visit  to  the  opera,  and  various  other  festivi- 
ties, strictly  limited  to  a  party  of  four,  from 
which  he  intended  Sir  Archy  should  be  con- 
spicuously left  out. 

When  breakfast  was  over,  and  Letty  had 
gone  to  prepare  for  the  drive,  she  met  Sir 
Archy  as  she  was  coming  down  the  stairs, 
putting  on  her  gloves. 

"Are  you  going  out?  "  he  asked.  "  I  had 
my  breakfast  in  my  room,  and  took  a  spin 
around  the  park  before  nine  o'clock." 

"  I  am  going  to  the  park  now.  Mr.  Fare- 
brother  takes  us.  He  came  down  last  night, 
on  the  late  train." 

Sir  Archy  looked  rather  black  at  this.  Of 
course  Farebrother's  arrival  could  mean  but 
one  thing — he  had  Letty's  encouragement  to 
come.  Letty,  however,  was  anxious  to  dis- 


A   STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY  99 

claim  all  responsibility  for  his  presence  in  New 
York.  This  only  puzzled  Sir  Archy  the  more. 
He  was  not  up  in  the  subtility  of  American 
flirtations,  and  regarded  Letty's  way  of  play- 
ing off  as  a  grave  infraction  of  the  moral  code. 
Something  of  this  he  hinted  to  her.  At  this 
Letty's  gay  laughter  pealed  out. 

"Why,  don't  you  suppose  that  American 
men  know  how  to  take  care  of  themselves?" 
she  cried. 

"They  ought  to  —  they  have  opportunities 
enough  to  learn,"  answered  Sir  Archy,  grimly. 

But  then  Letty  heard  the  Colonel's  voice, 
and  tripped  down  the  steps,  leaving  Sir  Archy 
moodily  chewing  his  mustache,  and  wonder- 
ing at  the  depravity  of  American  girls. 

The  day  was  bright  and  beautiful,  and  there 
was  an  autumn  crispness  in  the  blue  air. 
Letty  leaned  back  in  her  own  corner  of  the 
big  easy  landau,  shading  her  pretty,  thought- 
ful face  with  her  red  parasol.  She  had  on  a 
little  black  gown,  and  a  large  black  hat,  which 
suited  well  her  dainty  type.  Farebrother 
thought  so,  sitting  opposite  her,  and  watching 
the  look  of  calm  delight  in  her  eyes  as  they 
drove  along  the  leafy  roads,  and  stopped  in 
the  bosky  dells  of  the  park. 


ioo  A    STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY 

There  were  not  many  people  out — the 
"carriage  people"  had  not  yet  returned  to 
town,  and  there  was  a  charming  air  of  peace 
and  quiet  over  the  scene.  The  leaves  were 
beginning  to  turn,  and  the  caretakers  were 
busy  gathering  up  piles  of  those  that  had 
dropped.  Occasionally  the  carriage  stopped 
in  the  shade,  and  the  voices  of  the  little  party 
fell  in  unison  with  the  faint  rustling  of  the 
leaves  and  the  sylvan  stillness.  Sometimes 
they  could  almost  forget  that  they  were  near 
the  throbbing  heart  of  a  mighty  city. 

At  one  part  of  the  drive,  in  the  very  lone- 
liest spot  they  had  yet  seen,  Farebrother  pro- 
posed to  Letty  to  get  out  and  take  a  little 
stroll.  Letty  agreed  very  promptly,  and  the 
Colonel  and  Miss  Jemima  concluded  they 
would  stay  where  they  were.  So  Letty  and 
her  friend  strolled  away  down  to  the  banks  of 
a  little  stream,  where  the  dry  leaves  of  the 
young  trees  rustled  to  the  whispering  of  the 
wind.  It  was  high  noon  then,  but  so  retired 
was  this  spot  that  the  glare  was  utterly  shut 
out.  Whenever  Letty  found  herself  alone 
with  Farebrother  she  felt  a  very  acute  sympa- 
thy between  them.  She  felt  this  now,  more 
than  usual.  Farebrother  did  not  make  love 
to  her  in  the  least  with  seriousness.  Indeed, 


A    STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY  101 

he  had  never  done  so,  and  his  most  suggestive 
compliments  were  paid  when  they  were  laugh- 
ing and  joking  most  familiarly.  When  they 
were  alone,  his  tone  was  one  of  tender  friend- 
ship and  respect,  which  was  very  captivating 
to  Letty.  She  was  used  to  the  overflowing 
sentiment  of  Southern  men,  and  the  calm  and 
sane  admiration  of  a  man  like  Farebrother 
pleased  her  with  its  novelty,  and  flattered  her 
by  its  respect. 

They  stood  there  a  long  time,  Letty  idly 
throwing  pebbles  into  the  stream.  They  said 
but  little,  and  that  in  the  low  tone  to  which 
the  voice  naturally  drops  in  the  woods,  and 
presently,  a  silence  that  was  full  of  sweet  com- 
panionship fell  between  them.  They  might 
have  stayed  there  all  day,  so  charming  was  it, 
had  not  Letty  suddenly  remembered  herself. 

"  Oh,  we  must  be  going,"  she  said. 

"Yes,"  answered  Farebrother,  with  a  little 
sigh,  "we  must  be  going." 

When  they  caught  sight  of  the  carriage,  the 
Colonel  was  just  about  getting  out  in  order  to 
go  in  search  of  them.  Letty's  face  grew  scar- 
let, and  she  was  unusually  silent  on  their  way 
home  and  wished  she  had  not  stayed  so  long 
alone  with  Farebrother. 

Farebrother  had  arranged  to  take  the  Colo- 


102  A   STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY 

nel  and  Letty  to  the  theater  that  evening; 
Miss  Jemima  had  declined.  Letty  spent  the 
afternoon  in  her  room,  resting.  At  dinner 
she  came  out  radiant  in  a  white  gown,  a 
charming  white  hat,  with  white  fan  and  gloves. 
This,  she  fondly  imagined,  was  the  correct 
wear  for  the  theater,  in  orchestra  seats.  Fare- 
brother  had  got  those  seats  with  a  wary  design. 
If  he  had  taken  a  box,  Sir  Archy  might  have 
found  out  where  they  were  going,  and  it  is 
possible  to  pay  visits  in  a  box,  and  Farebrother 
determined  to  have  Letty  free  from  the  claims 
of  any  other  man  except  the  Colonel  on  that 
one  evening.  He  saw  in  a  moment  that  Letty 
had  got  altogether  the  wrong  ideas  about  cos- 
tume, but  she  looked  so  fresh  and  fair  that, 
with  masculine  indifference  to  conventionality, 
he  was  glad  she  had  put  on  her  white  gown. 

When  dinner  was  over,  and  they  were  wait- 
ing in  the  reception-room  for  their  carriage, 
the  Chessinghams,  Ethel  Maywood  and  Mr. 
Romaine  appeared,  also  bound  for  the  theater, 
and  for  the  same  play  that  Farebrother  had 
selected.  It  was  the  first  appearance  of  a 
celebrated  artist  in  a  play  new  in  this  country, 
and  Farebrother  had  given  more  attention  to 
the  artist  than  the  piece.  It  was  the  first 


A   STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY  103 

meeting  of  the  whole  party  since  they  had 
parted  on  the  boat  that  morning.  Mr.  Ro- 
maine,  when  he  found  that  they  were  all 
bound  for  the  same  performance,  grinned 
suggestively,  and  said  to  Farebrother : 

"  May  I  ask  if  you  have  ever  seen  this 
piece  ?  " 

"  No,"  answered  Farebrother,  "but  I  fancy 
it  's  very  good.  It  's  an  adaptation  from  the 
the  French,  no  doubt  made  over  to  suit  Ameri- 
can audiences,  which  are  the  most  prudish  in 
the  world." 

Mr.  Romaine  indulged  in  one  of  his  peculiar 
silent  laughs.  "  It  is  thoroughly  French,"  he 
remarked,  slyly. 

This  made  Farebrother  genuinely  uncom- 
fortable. He  knew  that  not  only  Letty  knew 
little  of  the  theater,  but  that  she  was  super- 
sensitive  as  to  questions  of  propriety,  and  that 
this  outrageous  coquette  would  not  stand  one 
equivocal  word.  And  the  Colonel  was  as 
prudish  as  she.  Farebrother  would  have 
hailed  with  delight  then  anything  that  would 
have  broken  up  his  party,  and  wished  that  he 
had  suggested  the  Eden  Musee. 

Nothing  escaped  Mr.  Romaine's  brilliant 
black  eyes.  He  took  in  at  once  Letty's  white 


104  A   STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY 

costume,  and  with  malice  aforethought,  whis- 
pered to  Miss  Maywood : 

"  Pardon  me,  but  is  a  white  gown  the  cor- 
rect thing  for  the  theater,  except  in  a  box,  for 
I  see  our  young  friend  is  radiant  to-night  as 
snow." 

"No,"  answered  Ethel,  very  positively,  "it 
is  the  worst  possible  form,  and  if  we  were  go- 
ing in  the  same  party,  I  should  not  hesitate 
to  ask  Miss  Corbin  to  wear  something  quieter. 
Otherwise  we  would  all  be  made  conspicuous 
from  her  bad  judgment." 

Miss  Maywood  had  on  her  darkest  and  se- 
verest tweed  frock,  and  her  most  uncompro- 
mising turban.  Mr.  Romaine,  having  got  this 
much  out  of  Miss  Maywood,  proceeded  to  ex- 
tract amusement  from  Miss  Corbin.  He  went 
over  to  her,  and  leaning  down,  whispered : 

"  My  dear  young  friend,  I  wish  you  had 
persuaded  Miss  Maywood  into  wearing  some- 
thing more  festive  than  her  traveling  gown 
on  this  occasion.  Because  ladies  wear  their 
bonnets  at  the  theater,  that  is  no  reason  why 
they  should  ransack  their  trunks  for  their  old- 
est and  plainest  gowns,  too." 

"I  quite  agree  with  you,"  answered  Letty, 
promptly,  who  was  not  ill-pleased  to  be  com- 


A   STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY  105 

plimented  at  Ethel  Maywood's  expense.  "She 
looks  a  regular  guy.  Of  course  if  we  were 
going  together,  I  should  n't  mind  giving  her  a 
delicate  hint,  because  it  would  scarcely  be  kind 
of  me  to  carry  off  all  the  honors  of  costume  on 
the  occasion,  and  no  doubt  she  would  be  much 
obliged  to  me.  But  I  really  can't  interfere 
now." 

Mr.  Romaine  went  off  chuckling,  and  the 
whole  way  to  the  theater  he  was  evidently  in 
a  state  of  suppressed  amusement,  which  puz- 
zled Ethel  very  much. 

Arrived  in  their  seats,  which  were  near  the 
other  party,  Letty  settled  herself  with  an  ec- 
static air  of  enjoyment  to  hear  the  play.  The 
overture  was  unmixed  delight.  So  was  the 
first  quarter  of  the  first  act.  But  in  about  ten 
minutes  "  the  fun  began,"  as  Farebrother 
afterward  ruefully  expressed  it.  The  play 
was  one  of  the  larkiest  descriptions  of  larky 
French  comedy. 

At  the  first  risque  situation,  Farebrother, 
whose  heart  was  in  his  mouth,  saw  the  Colo- 
nel's eyes  flash,  and  an  angry  dull  red  creep 
into  his  fine  old  face.  Letty  was  blissfully  un- 
conscious of  the  whole  thing,  and  remained  so 
much  longer  than  the  Colonel.  But  when  the 


io6  A   STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY 

curtain  came  down  on  the  first  act,  her  cheeks 
were  blazing,  and  she  turned  a  pair  of  indig- 
nant eyes  full  on  Farebrother,  who  felt  like  a 
thief,  a  sneak,  and  a  liar.  What  made  Letty 
blush  never  frightened  her  in  the  least,  but 
simply  angered  her,  so  that  she  was  always 
able  to  take  care  of  herself.  Farebrother,  whose 
ruddy  face  was  crimson,  and  who  struggled 
between  a  wild  disposition  to  swear  and  to 
laugh,  leaned  over  toward  the  Colonel,  and 
said  in  an  agonized  whisper,  that  Letty  caught 
distinctly : 

"  For  Heaven's  sake,  Colonel,  don't  think 
that  I  brought  you  knowingly  to  see  this 
thing.  I  had  never  seen  it  myself,  and  merely 
went  by  the  advertisement  in  the  papers." 

"Your  intentions  were  no  doubt  good,  my 
young  friend,"  replied  the  Colonel,  stiffly, 
"but  you  should  exercise  greater  care  in  the 
selection  of  plays  to  which  you  ask  innocent 
young  women." 

At  that,  Farebrother  would  have  been 
thankful  if  the  floor  had  opened  and  swallowed 
him  up.  But  Letty  had  evidently  heard  his 
few  words  of  explanation,  and  they  had  molli- 
fied her.  She  felt  sorry  for  Mr.  Farebrother, 
and  pitied  his  chagrin. 


A   STRANGE,  SAD    COMEDY  107 

"  Nevertheless,  sir,"  continued  the  Colonel, 
in  a  savage  whisper,  "  if  this  sort  of  thing 
continues,  I  shall  deem  it  my  duty  to  withdraw 
my  granddaughter." 

Farebrother  was  in  an  agony,  and  looking 
around,  he  saw  Mr.  Romaine's  bright  eyes 
fixed  on  him  gleaming  with  malicious  amuse- 
ment. Poor  Farebrother  at  that  moment  was 
truly  to  be  pitied.  But  disaster  followed  dis- 
aster, and  worse  ever  seemed  to  remain  be- 
hind. The  second  act  was  simply  outrageous, 
and  Farebrother,  although  he  had  more  than 
the  average  masculine  tolerance  for  risque 
and  amusing  plays,  was  so  disconcerted  by 
the  Colonel's  scowl  and  Letty's  discomfort 
that  he  fixed  his  eyes  on  his  program  and 
studied  it  as  if  it  were  the  most  fascinating 
composition  he  had  ever  read.  Not  so  the 
Colonel.  He  kept  his  attention  closely  upon 
the  stage,  and  at  one  point  which  brought 
down  the  house  with  roars  of  laughter  and 
applause,  the  Colonel  rose,  with  a  snort,  and 
with  a  countenance  like  a  thunder-cloud,  offer- 
ing his  arm  to  Letty,  stalked  down  the  main  aisle 
of  the  theater,  with  Farebrother,  utterly  crest- 
fallen, following  them.  Not  only  was  Fare- 
brother  deeply  annoyed  at  having  brought 


io8  A   STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY 

his  innocent  Virginia  friends  to  such  a  play, 
but  the  absurdity  of  his  own  position  and  the 
illimitable  chaff  he  would  have  to  put  up  with 
on  account  of  it  at  the  club  and  at  masculine 
dinners  was  a  serious  consideration  with  him. 

And  there  was  no  room  for  misunderstand- 
ing the  reason  of  their  departure.  The  Col- 
onel's face  was  a  study  of  virtuous  indigna- 
tion. Letty  was  crimson,  and  her  eyes  per- 
sistently sought  the  floor,  particularly  as  they 
passed  the  Romaine  party,  while  poor  Fare- 
brother's  hangdog  look  was  simply  pitiable. 
He  glanced  woefully  at  Mr.  Romaine  and  Dr. 
Chessingham ;  both  of  them  were  grinning 
broadly,  while  a  particular  chum  of  his,  who 
had  an  end  seat,  actually  winked  and  poked  a 
stick  at  him  as  he  followed  his  friends  out. 

In  the  carriage  he  laid  his  hand  upon  the 
knee  of  the  Colonel,  who  had  maintained  a 
terrible  and  portentous  silence,  and  said,  ear- 
nestly : 

"  Pray,  Colonel  Corbin,  forgive  me  for  my 
mistake  in  taking  you  and  Miss  Corbin  there. 
Of  course  I  did  n't  dream  that  anything  would 
be  given  which  would  offend  you,  and  I  am 
more  sorry  than  I  can  express." 

The  Colonel  cleared  his  throat  and  re- 
sponded : 


A   STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY  109 

"  I  can  well  believe,  my  dear  sir,  that  your 
mistake  came  from  the  head,  not  the  heart, 
and  as  such  I  fully  condone  it.  But  I  could 
not  allow  my  granddaughter  to  remain  and 
see  and  hear  things  that  no  young  girl,  or  any 
woman  for  that  matter,  should  see  or  hear, 
and  so  I  felt  compelled  to  take  some  decisive 
step.  I  am  prodigiously  concerned  at  treat- 
ing your  hospitable  intention  to  give  us  pleas- 
ure in  this  manner.  But  I  ask  you,  as  a  man 
of  the  world,  what  was  I  to  do  ?  " 

Farebrother  restrained  his  inclination  to 
haw-haw  at  the  Colonel's  idea  of  a  man  of  the 
world,  and  accepted  his  view  of  the  whole 
thing  with  the  most  slavish  submission.  He 
whispered  in  Letty's  ear,  though,  as  they  rat- 
tled over  the  cobblestones,  "  Forgive  me,"  to 
which  Letty,  after  a  moment,  whispered  back, 
"  I  do." 

As  it  was  so  early  in  the  evening,  Farebro- 
ther proposed  Delmonico's,  not  having  the 
courage  to  suggest  any  more  theaters.  They 
went,  therefore,  and  had  a  very  jolly  little 
supper,  during  which  the  entente  cordiale  was 
thoroughly  restored,  and  the  unlucky  play 
forgotten.  On  the  whole  the  evening  did  not 
end  badly  for  Farebrother. 

He  remained  in  New  York  as  long  as  the 


no  A  STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY 

Corbins  did,  which  was  about  two  weeks.  He 
accompanied  Letty  on  her  shopping  tours, 
aiding  her  with  his  advice,  which  she  usually 
took,  and  then  bitterly  reproached  him  for 
afterward.  When  Mrs.  Gary's  chair  had  been 
bought,  and  lavish  presents  for  Miss  Jemima, 
the  Colonel,  Dad  Davy  and  all  the  servants, 
and  an  evening  gown  contracted  for,  Letty 
then  quite  unexpectedly  indulged  in  a  full  set 
of  silver  for  her  toilet  table.  This  left  her 
without  any  money  to  buy  the  shoes,  gloves, 
and  fan  for  her  evening  gown,  but  Letty  con- 
soled herself  by  saying : 

"  Very  probably  I  sha'n't  have  a  chance  to 
wear  it,  anyhow,  after  we  get  back  to  the 
country,  and  I  could  n't  use  white  gloves  and 
shoes  and  a  lace  fan  every  day,  and  I  can  use 
a  silver  comb  and  brush,  and  look  at  myself  in 
a  silver  glass." 

Ethel  Maywood  thought  this  very  imprac- 
tical of  Letty,  and  Farebrother  laughed  so 
uproariously  that  Letty  was  quite  offended 
with  him.  But  she  frankly  acknowledged 
that  she  felt  happier  after  her  mind  had  been 
relieved  of  the  strain  of  spending  so  large  a 
capital,  than  when  she  was  burdened  with  its 
responsibilities.  The  Colonel's  purchases  were 


A   STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY  in 

very  much  after  the  same  order.  He  bought 
a  pair  of  carriage  horses  which  in  Virginia  he 
could  have  got  for  considerably  less  than  he 
paid,  and  he  quite  forgot  that  the  rickety 
old  carriage  for  which  they  were  intended 
was  past  praying  for.  He  also  bought  a 
variety  of  ornamental  shrubs  and  plants  for 
which  the  climate  at  Corbin  Hall  was  totally 
unsuited.  He  indulged  himself  in  twelve 
dozen  of  port,  which,  with  his  hotel  bills,  swal- 
lowed up  the  rest  of  his  cash  capital. 

Meanwhile,  Sir  Archy  was  by  no  means  out 
of  the  running,  and  saw  almost  as  much  of  his 
cousins  as  Farebrother.  But  he  became 
deeply  interested  in  New  York,  and  went  to 
work  studying  the  great  city  with  a  charac- 
teristic English  thoroughness.  Before  the 
two  weeks  were  over,  he  knew  more  about 
the  city  government,  taxation,  rents,  values, 
commerce,  museums,  theaters,  press,  litera- 
ture, and  everything  else,  than  Farebrother 
did,  who  had  lived  there  all  his  life. 

The  night  before  the  Corbins  were  to  start 
for  Virginia,  Letty  knocked  at  the  door  of  the 
Chessinghams'  sitting-room  to  say  good-by. 
Ethel  Maywood  opened  the  door  for  her.  She 
was  quite  alone,  and  the  two  girls  seated 


112  A    STRANGE,  SAD    COMEDY 

themselves  for  a  farewell  chat.  They  did  not 
like  each  other  one  whit  better  than  in  the 
beginning,  but  neither  had  they  infringed  the 
armed  neutrality  which  existed  between  them. 
They  knew  that  in  the  country  that  winter 
they  would  be  thrown  together,  and  sensible 
people  do  not  quarrel  in  the  country  ;  they  are 
too  dependent  on  each  other. 

"And  I  suppose  I  am  to  congratulate  you," 
said  Ethel,  with  rather  a  chill  smile. 

"  On  what,  pray  ?  "  asked  Letty,  putting  the 
top  of  her  slipper  on  the  fender,  and  clasping 
her  hands  around  her  knee  in  a  graceful  but 
unconventional  attitude. 

"  Upon  your  engagement  to  Mr.  Farebro- 
ther,"  said  Ethel,  looking  more  surprised  than 
Letty. 

"  But  I  am  not  engaged  to  Mr.  Farebro- 
ther,"  answered  Letty,  sitting  up  very  straight, 
"  and  he  has  not  asked  me  to  marry  him." 

"  Oh,  I  am  so  sorry  for  you,"  cried  Ethel. 
"  I  would  never  have  mentioned  it  if  I  had 
known." 

"  Why  are  you  sorry  for  me  ?  "  demanded 
Letty,  her  cheeks  showing  a  danger  signal. 

"  Because  —  because,  dear,  after  a  man  has 
paid  a  girl  the  marked  attention  for  weeks 


A   STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY  113 

that  Mr.  Farebrother  has  paid  you,  it  is  cer- 
tainly very  bad  treatment  not  to  make  an  of- 
fer, and  I  should  think  your  grandpapa  would 
bring  Mr.  Farebrother  to  terms." 

Letty's  surprise  was  indescribable.  She 
could  only  murmur  confusedly : 

"Grandpapa — Mr.  Farebrother  to  terms 
—  bad  treatment  —  what  do  you  mean?" 

"Just  what  I  say,"  answered  Ethel,  tartly. 
"  If  a  man  devotes  himself  to  a  girl,  he  has 
no  right  to  withdraw  without  making  her  an 
offer,  and  such  conduct  is  considered  highly 
dishonorable  in  England." 

Rage  and  laughter  struggled  together  in 
Letty's  breast,  but  laughter  triumphed.  She 
lay  back  in  her  chair,  and  peal  after  peal 
of  laughter  poured  forth.  Ethel  Maywood 
thought  Letty  was  losing  her  mind,  until  at 
last  she  managed  to  gasp,  between  explosions 
of  merriment,  that  things  were  a  little  differ- 
ent in  this  country,  and  that  neither  she  nor 
Mr.  Farebrother  had  incurred  the  slightest 
obligation  toward  each  other  by  their  con- 
duct. 

It  was  now  the  English  girl's  turn  to  be 
surprised,  and  surprised  she  was.  In  the 
midst  of  it  Mr.  Romaine  came  in  upon  one 


114  A   STRANGE,  SAD    COMEDY 

of  his  rare  visits.  He  demanded  to  know  the 
meaning  of  Letty's  merriment,  and  Letty, 
quite  unable  to  keep  so  diverting  a  cat  in  the 
bag,  could  not  forbear  letting  it  out.  Mr. 
Romaine  enjoyed  it  in  his  furtive,  silent 
manner. 

It  found  its  way  to  Farebrother's  ears,  who 
was  as  much  amused  as  anybody,  and  when 
he  and  Letty  met  a  few  hours  afterward,  each 
of  them,  on  catching  the  other's  eye,  laughed 
unaccountably. 

The  Romaine  party  was  to  follow  later  in 
the  season,  considerable  preparations  being 
necessary  for  the  house  at  Shrewsbury  to  be 
inhabitable  after  forty  years  of  solitude.  Fare- 
brother  and  Sir  Archy  had  both  accepted  the 
Colonel's  pressing  invitations  to  pay  a  visit  to 
Corbin  Hall  in  time  for  the  shooting,  and  so 
the  parting  with  Letty  was  not  for  long.  He 
and  Sir  Archy  went  with  them  to  the  station, 
and  Letty  found  her  chair  surrounded  by  piles 
of  flowers,  books,  and  everything  that  custom 
permits  a  man  to  give  to  a  girl.  There  was 
also  a  very  handsome  bouquet  with  Mr.  Ro- 
maine's  card.  Letty  penned  a  card  of  thanks 
which  Farebrother  delivered  to  Mr.  Romaine 
before  Miss  Maywood.  Mr.  Romaine,  with 


A   STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY  115 

elaborate  gallantry,  placed  it  in  his  breast 
pocket,  to  Miss  Maywood's  evident  discom- 
fiture. 

Meanwhile  the  Corbins  were  speeding  home- 
ward on  the  Southern  train.  Letty  had  en- 
joyed immensely  her  first  view  of  the  great, 
big,  outside  world. 


VI 


|OVEMBER  came,  that  sunny  autumn 
month  in  lower  Virginia,  when  the 
changing  woods  glow  in  the  mellow 
light,  and  a  rich,  blue  haze  envelops  the  rolling 
uplands ;  when  the  earth  lies  calm  and  soft, 
wrapped  in  the  golden  brightness  of  the  day, 
or  the  cloudless  splendor  of  the  moon-lit 
night.  The  chirp  of  the  partridge  was  heard 
abroad  in  the  land,  and  that  was  the  sign 
for  Farebrother's  arrival.  An  excursion  down 
to  Virginia  after  partridges  concealed  a  pur- 
pose on  his  part  toward  higher  game  and 
a  more  exciting  pursuit. 

One  day,  though,  two  or  three  weeks  before 
Farebrother's  arrival,  the  Colonel  received  a 
marked  copy  of  a  newspaper.  It  contained 
the  notice  of  the  collapse  of  a  bank  in  New 
York,  in  which  the  Farebrother  family  were 
large  stockholders. 

Then  came  a  letter  from  Farebrother  tell- 

116 


A   STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY  117 

ing  the  whole  story.  By  far  the  bulk  of  their 
fortune  was  gone,  but  there  was  still  enough 
left  for  his  mother  and  sisters  to  live  com- 
fortably. 

"As  for  myself,"  he  wrote,  "without  in- 
dulging in  any  cant  or  hypocrisy,  I  can  say 
that  the  loss  of  what  might  have  been  mine 
has  great  compensations  for  me.  I  shall  now 
be  free  to  pursue  my  profession  of  architect- 
ure, which  I  love  with  the  greatest  enthusi- 
asm. Formerly  I  was  handicapped  by  being 
thought  a  rich  man,  and  among  my  fellows  in 
my  trade  it  was  always  against  me  that  I 
took  money  which  I  did  not  need.  But  now 
I  am  upon  the  same  footing  as  the  rest,  and  I 
shall  have  a  chance  to  pursue  it,  not  as  a  dil- 
ettante, but  as  a  working  member  of  a  great 
profession.  I  have  done  some  things  that 
have  been  commended,  and  I  have  got  en- 
gagements already,  although  I  have  not  yet 
opened  an  office.  But  I  have  taken  one  in 
New  York.  So,  although  I  suppose  no  man 
ever  lost  money  who  did  not  regret  it,  I  can 
say,  with  great  sincerity,  that  I  know  of  no 
man  who  ever  lost  it  to  whom  it  was  so  slight 
a  real  loss." 

Letty  and  the  Colonel  both  liked  Farebro- 


Ii8  A   STRANGE,  SAD    COMEDY 

ther's  letter;  it  was  so  straightforward  and 
manly.  The  Colonel,  with  masculine  fatuity, 
had  suggested  that  Sir  Archy  and  Farebrother 
should  time  their  visit  together.  The  truth 
was  he  did  not  relish  the  idea  of  tramping  over 
meadows  and  through  woods  after  partridges, 
nor  did  he  think  it  hospitable  to  let  one  of  his 
guests  go  alone,  but  two  of  them  could  get 
along  very  well,  so  he  managed  to  ask  them 
both  at  the  same  time.  Neither  one  liked 
the  arrangement  when  he  found  it  out,  but 
neither  made  any  opposition. 

Farebrother  could  not  quite  fathom  how 
Sir  Archy  and  Letty  stood  toward  each  other. 
Sir  Archy  had  not  indulged  in  any  demon- 
strations toward  her,  except  those  that  were 
merely  friendly.  Judged  from  the  American 
point  of  view,  his  attentions  were  nothing. 
And  to  complicate  matters,  his  following  the 
Corbins  and  the  Romaine  party  to  New  York 
might  be  understood  as  committing  him  as 
much  to  Miss  Maywood  as  to  Miss  Corbin. 
The  Chessinghams,  Miss  Maywood,  and  even 
Sir  Archy  himself  regarded  that  New  York 
trip  as  a  very  important  and  significant  affair, 
and  Sir  Archy,  not  forgetting  his  British  cau- 
tion in  love  affairs,  had  at  first  congratulated 


A   STRANGE,  SAD    COMEDY  119 

himself  that  his  motive  might  be  supposed  to 
be  either  one  of  the  girls.  But  upon  further 
reflection  he  rather  regretted  this.  He  knew 
that  Letty  attached  not  the  slightest  impor- 
tance to  anything  a  man  might  say  or  do 
short  of  an  actual  proposal. 

But  Ethel  Maywood  was  different.  She 
was  of  good  family,  accustomed  to  all  the  re- 
strictions of  a  young  English  girl,  and  Chess- 
ingham  was  one  of  his  best  friends,  so  that  it 
would  be  peculiarly  awkward  if  his  conduct 
had  given  rise  to  hopes  that  never  could  be 
realized. 

There  was  no  doubt  in  Sir  Archy's  mind, 
though,  that  he  preferred  Letty.  He  had 
heretofore  felt,  in  all  the  slight  fancies  he  had 
had  for  girls,  a  need  for  the  greatest  circum- 
spection, for  he  was  a  baronet  with  a  rent  roll, 
and  as  such  distinctly  an  eligible.  But  whether 
Letty  would  take  him  or  not,  he  had  not  the 
remotest  inkling.  Sometimes  he  reasoned 
that  the  mere  fact  she  exempted  him  to  a 
certain  degree  from  the  outrageous  coquetry 
she  lavished  on  Farebrother  might  be  a  good 
sign.  Again,  he  felt  himself  hopelessly  out 
of  the  race.  As  for  Miss  Maywood,  he  had 
a  half  acknowledged  feeling  that  if  Letty 


120  A   STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY 

did  not  take  him  Ethel  had  the  next  best 
claim.  Of  course  he  knew  she  would  marry 
Mr.  Romaine  if  he  asked  her.  But  this  did 
not  shock  him,  accustomed  as  he  was  to  the 
English  idea  that  there  is  a  grave,  moral  ob- 
ligation upon  every  girl  to  marry  well  if  she 
can,  without  waiting  for  further  eventualities. 

The  boat  only  came  to  the  river  landing 
twice  a  week,  so  that  it  happened  very  natu- 
rally both  Sir  Archy  and  Farebrother  stepped 
off  the  steamer  one  November  evening,  and 
got  into  the  rickety  carriage  drawn  by  the 
two  showy  bobtailed  horses  bought  in  New 
York,  over  which  Dad  Davy  handled  the  rib- 
bons. Dad  Davy  received  the  guests  with 
effusion,  and  apologized  for  the  restlessness 
of  the  horses. 

"  Dee  ain'  used  ter  de  ways  o'  de  quality 
yit  Quality  folks'  horses  oughter  know  to 
stan'  still  an'  do  nuttin' ;  ole  marse  say  dee 
warn't  raise'  by  no  gent'mun,  an'  dee  k'yarn' 
keep  quiet  like  er  gent'mun's  kerridge  hosses 
oughter." 

The  horses  started  off  at  a  rattling  pace, 
and  the  carriage  bumped  along  at  such  a 
lively  rate  over  the  country  road  that  Sir 
Archy  fully  expected  to  find  himself  landed 
flat  on  the  ground. 


A    STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY  121 

"  I  don't  believe  this  old  trap  will  ever  get 
us  to  Corbin  Hall,"  he  said  to  Farebrother. 

The  two  men  were  pleasant  enough  toge- 
ther, although  each  wished  the  other  back  in 
New  York.  Farebrother  inquired  about  Mr. 
Romaine,  and  Sir  Archy  mentioned  that  the 
whole  party  would  be  down  the  next  week. 

It  was  quite  dusk  when  the  ramshackly  old 
coach  rattled  and  banged  up  to  the  door  of 
Corbin  Hall.  The  house  looked  exactly  as  it 
had  on  that  November  night  ten  years  before, 
when  Sir  Archy  had  made  his  entry  there. 

The  hall  door  was  wide  open,  and  from  it 
poured  the  ruddy  glow  of  the  fire  in  the  great 
drawing-room  fire-place,  and  two  candles  sent 
a  pale  ray  into  the  darkness.  The  Colonel 
stood  waiting  to  receive  them,  with  Letty  and 
Miss  Jemima  in  the  background.  When  the 
two  men  alighted  and  entered  the  house,  the 
Colonel  nearly  sawed  their  arms  off. 

"  Delighted  to  see  you,  my  dear  young 
friends,"  he  cried,  "and  most  fortunate  and 
agreeable  for  us  all  that  you  are  here  toge- 
ther." 

The  Colonel,  in  his  simplicity,  actually  be- 
lieved this.  Miss  Jemima's  greeting  and 
Letty's  was  not  less  cordial,  and  each  of  the 
two  men  would  have  felt  perfectly  satisfied 


122  A    STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY 

under  the  circumstances  but  for  the  presence 
of  the  other. 

The  shabby,  comfortable  old  library  looked 
exactly  as  it  had  done  ten  years  before.  The 
identical  square  of  rag  carpet  was  spread  over 
the  handsome  floor,  polished  by  many  decades 
of  "dry  rubbin'."  Everything  in  the  room 
that  could  shine  by  rubbing  did  so — for  Afri- 
cans were  plentiful  still  at  Corbin  Hall.  The 
brass  fender  and  fire  dogs,  the  old  mahogany 
furniture,  all  shone  like  looking-glasses. 

Miss  Letty  regulated  her  conduct  toward 
her  two  admirers  with  the  most  artful  impar- 
tiality, and  both  Sir  Archy  and  Farebrother 
realized  promptly  that  their  visit  was  to  be  a 
season  of  enjoyment,  and  not  of  lovemaking 
— which  last  is  too  thorny  a  pursuit  and  too 
full  of  pangs  and  apprehensions  to  be  classed 
strictly  under  the  head  of  pleasure.  Miss 
Jemima  gave  them  a  supper  that  was  simply 
an  epic  in  suppers — so  grand,  so  nobly  pro- 
portioned, so  sustained  from  beginning  to 
end.  Afterward,  sitting  around  the  library 
fire,  they  had  to  hear  a  good  many  of  the 
Colonel's  stories,  with  Letty  in  a  little  low  chair 
in  the  corner,  her  hands  demurely  folded  in 
her  lap,  and  the  fire-light  showing  the  milky 


A  STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY  123 

whiteness  of  her  throat  and  lights  and 
shadows  in  her  hazel  eyes.  Letty  was  very 
silent — for,  being  a  creature  of  caprice,  when 
she  was  not  laughing  and  talking  like  a 
running  brook,  she  maintained  a  mysterious 
silence.  One  slender  foot  in  a  black  slipper 
showed  from  under  the  edge  of  her  gown — 
the  only  sign  of  coquetry  about  her  —  for  no 
matter  how  much  Puritanism  in  air  and  man- 
ner Letty  might  affect,  there  was  always  one 
small  circumstance  —  whether  it  was  her  foot, 
her  hand,  or  her  hair,  or  the  turn  of  her  head, — 
in  which  the  natural  and  incorrigible  flirt  was 
revealed.  The  evening  passed  quickly  and 
pleasantly  to  all.  The  Colonel  would  not 
hear  of  a  week  being  the  limit  of  their  visit. 
Within  a  few  days  the  Romaine  party  would 
be  at  Shrewsbury,  and  then  there  would  be  a 
"  reunion,"  as  the  Colonel  expressed  it. 

When  Farebrother  was  consigned  to  his 
bed-room  that  night,  with  a  huge  four-poster 
like  a  catafalque  to  sleep  in,  and  a  dressing- 
table  with  a  frilled  dimity  petticoat  around  it, 
and  the  inevitable  wood-fire  roaring  up  the 
chimney,  he  abandoned  himself  to  pleasing 
reflections,  as  he  smoked  his  last  cigar.  How 
pleasant,  home-like,  and  comfortable  was 


'i24  A   STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY 

everything !  Nothing  was  too  good  to  be 
used  —  and  the  prevailing  shabbiness  seemed 
only  a  part  of  the  comfort  of  it  all.  And 
Letty,  like  all  true  women,  was  more  charm- 
ing in  her  own  home  than  anywhere  else  in 
the  world. 

Sir  Archy,  in  the  corresponding  bed-room 
across  the  hall,  with  a  corresponding  cata- 
falque, petticoated  dressing-table,  etc.,  likewise 
indulged  in  retrospection  before  he  went  to 
bed.  He  was  not  so  easy  in  his  mind  —  no 
man  can  be  at  peace  who  has  two  women  in 
his  thoughts.  He  was  very  sorry  the  Ro- 
maine  party  were  coming.  He  had  not  dis- 
criminated enough  in  his  attentions  between 
Letty  and  Ethel  Maywood,  and  the  feeling 
that  he  might  be  playing  fast  and  loose  with 
Ethel  troubled  and  annoyed  him.  But  love 
with  him  was  a  much  more  prosaic  and  con- 
ventional matter,  though  not  less  sincere,  than 
with  Farebrother,  who  had  the  American  dis- 
regard of  consequences  in  affairs  of  the  heart. 

Next  morning  was  an  ideal  morning  for 
shooting.  A  white  haze  lay  over  the  land, 
tempering  the  glory  of  the  morning  sun.  The 
rime  lay  over  the  fields  just  enough  to  help 


A   STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY  125 

the  scent  of  the  dogs,  and  there  was  a  calm, 
chill  stillness  in  the  air  that  boded  ill  for  par- 
tridges. 

The  Colonel  turned  his  two  young  friends 
over  to  the  care  of  Tom  Battercake,  and  the 
trio  started  off  accompanied  by  a  good-sized 
pack  of  pointers.  Sir  Archy  had  on  the 
usual  immaculate  English  rig  for  shooting — 
immaculate  in  the  mud  and  stains  necessary 
for  correct  shooting  clothes.  His  gun,  game- 
bag,  and  whole  outfit  were  as  complete  as  if 
he  had  expected  to  be  cast  ashore  on  a  desert 
island,  with  only  his  trusty  weapon  to  keep 
him  from  starvation.  Farebrother's  gun,  too, 
was  a  gem — but  in  other  respects  he  pre- 
sented the  makeshift  appearance  of  a  man 
who  likes  sport,  but  does  not  affect  it.  His 
trousers,  which  had  belonged,  not  to  a  shoot- 
ing-suit, originally,  but  had  attended  first  a 
morning  wedding,  were  so  shabby  as  to  pro- 
voke Letty's  most  scathing  sarcasm.  His 
coat  and  hat  were  shocking,  and  altogether 
he  looked  like  a  tramp  in  hard  luck.  Tom 
Battercake,  much  to  Sir  Archy's  surprise,  was 
provided  with  an  ancient  and  rusty  musket  of 
the  vintage  of  1840,  with  which  he  proposed 


126  A   STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY 

to  take  a  flyer  occasionally.  Sir  Archy  pri- 
vately expressed  his  surprise  at  this  to  Fare- 
brother,  who  laughed  aloud. 

"That  's  all  right  down  here,"  he  said,  still 
laughing.  "  There  's  game  enough  for  every- 
body— even  the  darkeys." 

Sir  Archy  could  not  quite  comprehend  this — 
but  he  reflected  that  not  much  damage  could 
be  done  by  such  a  piece  of  ordnance  as  the 
old  musket.  However,  he  soon  changed  his 
mind  —  for  Tom,  by  hook  or  by  crook, 
managed  to  fill  a  gunny  bag  which  he  had 
concealed  about  his  person  quite  as  soon 
as  Sir  Archy  and  Farebrother  filled  their 
bags,  and  still  he  gave  them  all  the  best 
shots.  Sir  Archy's  wrath  was  aroused  by 
some  of  Tom's  unique  methods — such  as 
knocking  a  partridge  over  with  the  long  bar- 
rel of  his  musket  as  the  bird  was  on  the 
ground,  and  various  other  unsportsmanlike 
but  successful  devices.  But  there  was  no 
way  of  bringing  Tom's  iniquities  home  to 
him,  who  evidently  considered  the  birds  of 
the  air  were  to  be  caught  as  freely  as  the 
fishes  of  the  sea.  So  Sir  Archy  soon  relapsed 
into  silent  disgust.  He  was  a  superb  shot, 
but  Tom  Battercake  fairly  rivaled  him,  while 


A   STRANGE,  SAD    COMEDY  127 

Farebrother  was  a  bad  third.  After  tramp- 
ing about  all  the  morning,  they  sat  down  on 
the  edge  of  the  woods  to  eat  the  luncheon 
with  which  Miss  Jemima  had  provided  them. 
While  they  were  sitting  on  the  ground,  Tom 
was  noticed  to  be  eying  Sir  Archy's  beauti- 
ful gun  with  an  air  of  longing.  Presently  he 
spoke  up  diffidently,  scratching  his  wool. 

"  Marse  Archy — please,  sun — ain'  you  gwi' 
lem  me  have  one  shot  outen  dat  ar  muskit  o' 
yourn  ? " 

Sir  Archy's  first  impulse  was  to  throw  the 
gun  at  Tom's  woolly  head,  but  on  reflec- 
tion he  merely  scowled  at  him.  Farebrother 
laughed. 

"There,  you  rascal,"  he  said,  "you  may 
take  my  gun,  and  don't  blow  your  head  off 
with  it." 

Sir  Archy  was  paralyzed  with  astonishment 
—  not  so  Tom,  who  dashed  for  the  gun  and 
disappeared  in  the  underbrush  with  Rattler, 
the  dean  of  the  corps  of  pointers  at  Corbin 
Hall.  In  a  little  while  a  regular  fusillade  was 
heard,  and  in  half  an  hour  Tom  appeared  with 
a  string  of  partridges  on  his  shoulder,  and  a 
broad  grin  across  his  face. 

"Thankee,    thankee,   marster,"  he  said  to 


128  A    STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY 

Farebrother,  returning  the  gun.  "  Dat  ar 
muskit  o'  yourn  cert'ny  does  shoot  good.  I 
ain'  never  shoot  wid  nuttin'  like  her  —  an'  ef 
dis  nigger  had  er  gun  like  dat,  ketch  him 
doin'  no  mo'  wuk  in  bird  time ! " 

Sir  Archy  forbore  comment,  but  he  con- 
cluded that  American  sport,  like  everything 
else  American,  was  highly  original  and  inex- 
plicable. 

The  week  passed  quickly  enough.  Every 
day,  when  the  weather  was  fine,  they  went 
out  in  the  society  of  Tom  Battercake.  In  the 
afternoon  the  lively  horses  were  hitched  up  to 
some  of  the  mediaeval  vehicles  at  Corbin  Hall, 
and  they  took  a  drive  through  the  rich,  flat 
country,  Letty  being  usually  of  the  party. 
She  was  surprisingly  well  behaved,  but  Fare- 
brother  doubted  if  it  was  a  genuine  reform, 
and  suspected  truly  enough  that  it  was  only 
one  of  Letty's  protean  disguises.  When  the 
week  was  out  the  Colonel  would  not  hear  of 
their  departure,  and  Sir  Archy  promptly  agreed 
to  prolong  his  visit.  Of  course,  when  he  de- 
cided to  stay,  Farebrother  could  not  have 
been  driven  away  with  a  stick.  At  the  be- 
ginning of  the  second  week  Mr.  Romaine,  the 
Chessinghams  and  Miss  Maywood  arrived  at 


A   STRANGE,  SAD    COMEDY  129 

Shrewsbury.     Within  a  day  or  two  the  Col- 
onel and  Letty,  and  their  two  guests,  set  out 
one   afternoon   for   Shrewsbury  to   pay  their* 
first  call. 

Instead  of  the  picturesque  shabbiness  of 
Corbin  Hall,  Shrewsbury  was  in  perfect  re- 
pair. It  was  a  fine  old  country  house,  and 
when  they  drove  up  to  the  door,  it  had  an  air 
of  having  been  newly  furbished  up  outside 
and  in  that  was  extremely  displeasing  to  the 
Colonel. 

"  Romaine  is  an  iconoclast,  I  see,"  he  re- 
marked, fretfully.  "He  is  possessed  with  that 
modern  devil  of  paint  and  varnish  that  is  the 
ruin  of  everything  in  these  days.  The  place 
looks  quite  unlike  itself." 

"  But  does  n't  it  look  better  than  it  ever 
did  ? "  asked  Letty,  who  would  have  been  glad 
to  see  some  paint  and  varnish  at  Corbin  Hall. 
This  the  Colonel  disdained  to  answer. 

They  were  ushered  into  a  handsome  and 
modernly  furnished  drawing-room  by  Mr.  Ro- 
maine's  own  man,  who  wore  a  much  injured 
expression  at  finding  himself  in  Virginia  and 
the  country  to  boot.  Newport  suited  his  taste 
much  better.  The  Colonel  sniffed  contempt- 
uously at  the  Turkish  rugs,  divans,  ottomans, 


130  A    STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY 

lamps,  screens  and  bric-a-brac  that  had  taken 
the  place  of  the  ancient  horsehair  furniture. 
'Letty  looked  around,  consumed  with  envy 
and  longing. 

Presently  Mr.  Romaine  appeared,  followed 
by  the  Chessinghams  and  Ethel  May  wood, 
who  was  looking  uncommonly  handsome.  As 
soon  as  greetings  were  exchanged,  the  Col- 
onel attacked  Mr.  Romaine  about  what  he 
called  his  "vandalism"  in  refurnishing  his 
house.  Mr.  Romaine  laughed  his  peculiar 
low  laugh. 

"Why,  if  I  had  let  that  old  rubbish  remain 
here,  which  had  no  associations  whatever,  ex- 
cept that  it  was  bought  by  my  father's  agent 
—  a  person  of  no  taste  whatever — I  should 
have  been  constantly  reminded  of  the  flight  of 
time,  a  thing  I  should  always  like  to  forget." 

"  Life,  my  dear  Romaine,"  remarked  the 
Colonel,  solemnly,  "  is  full  of  reminders  of 
the  flight  of  time  to  persons  of  our  advanced 
years,  and  we  have  but  a  brief  span  in  which 
to  prepare  for  another  world  than  this  sub- 
lunary sphere." 

At  this  Mr.  Romaine,  excessively  nettled, 
turned  to  Letty  and  began  to  describe  to  her 
a  very  larky  ballet  he  had  witnessed  in  New 


A   STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY  131 

York  just  before  leaving  for  Virginia.  Letty, 
in  her  innocence,  missed  the  point  of  the  story, 
which  annoyed  and  amused  Mr.  Romaine. 
The  Colonel  by  that  time  was  deep  in  con- 
versation with  gentle  Gladys  Chessingham, 
whom  he  sincerely  admired,  and  so  did  not 
catch  Mr.  Romaine's  remarks,  of  which  he 
would  have  strongly  disapproved. 

Among  the  four  young  people — Fare- 
brother,  Letty,  Sir  Archy  and  Ethel  May- 
wood — a  slight  constraint  existed.  Each  girl 
so  resolutely  believed  in  the  falsity  of  the 
other's  ideas  where  men  were  concerned  that 
each  was  on  the  alert  to  be  shocked.  Sir 
Archy  was  wondering  if  his  friends,  the  Chess- 
inghams,  were  suspecting  him  of  trifling  with 
Ethel  Maywood's  feelings,  and  Farebrother 
was  heartily  wishing  that  Ethel  would  succeed 
in  landing  the  baronet  in  her  net,  and  so  leave 
Letty  for  himself. 

Nevertheless,  they  made  talk  naturally 
enough.  Ethel  was  secretly  much  disgusted 
with  the  country  as  she  saw  it.  There  were 
few  of  the  resources  of  English  country  life  at 
hand,  and  as  she  had  been  educated  to  de- 
pending upon  a  certain  round  of  conventional 
amusements  to  kill  time,  she  was  completely 


132  A    STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY 

at  a  loss  what  to  do  without  them.  Reading 
she  regarded  as  a  duty  instead  of  a  pleasure. 
But  with  the  class  instincts  of  a  well  born 
English  girl,  she  conceived  it  to  be  her  duty 
to  say  she  liked  the  country  at  all  times,  and 
so  protested  in  her  pretty,  well-modulated 
voice.  Sir  Archy  and  Farebrother  were  tem- 
porary resources,  but  no  more.  As  for  Sir 
Archy,  she  regarded  him  as  much  more  unat- 
tainable than  he  fancied  himself  to  be.  It 
would  be  too  much  good  luck  to  expect  for 
her  to  return  to  England  as  Lady  Corbin  of 
Fox  Court,  and  so  she  dismissed  the  dazzling 
vision  with  a  sigh,  and  made  up  her  mind  to 
fly  no  higher  than  Mr.  Romaine.  Letty  won- 
dered how  the  domestic  machinery  ran  at 
Shrewsbury,  with  black  servants  picked  up 
here  and  there  in  the  country — for  the 
Shrewsbury  negroes,  having  no  personal  ties 
to  the  place,  had  scattered  speedily  after  the 
war.  Ethel  soon  enlightened  her. 

"  Turner  " — that  was  theirmaid —  "  is  really 
excessively  frightened  at  the  blacks.  They 
grin  at  her  so  diabolically,  and  she  can't  get 
rid  of  the  impression  that  all  blacks  are  can- 
nibals, and  as  for  Dodson  and  Bridge" — the 
two  valets  —  "they  do  nothing  but  complain  to 


A   STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY  133 

Reggie,  and  he  says  he  expects  them  both  to 
give  warning  before  the  month  is  out." 

"  I  should  think  they  would,"  cried  Letty, 
laughing,  and  realizing  the  woes  of  two  Lon- 
don flunkies  in  a  domestic  staff  made  up  of 
Virginia  negroes. 

"  None  of  them  can  read  a  written  order," 
continued  Miss  Maywood,  who  usually  avoided 
the  bad  form  of  talking  about  servants,  but 
who  found  present  circumstances  too  over- 
powering for  her.  "The  cook  seems  an  ex- 
cellent old  person,  not  devoid  of  intelligence, 
although  wholly  without  education — and  as 
Reggie  liked  her  way  of  preparing  an  ome- 
lette, I  sent  for  her  to  write  down  the  recipe. 
She  came  in,  laughing  as  if  it  were  the  great- 
est joke  in  the  world,  called  me  '  honey '  and 
'child,'  and  I  never  could  get  out  of  her — 
although  she  talked  incessantly  in  her  peculiar 
patois — what  I  really  wished  to  know." 

This  amused  Sir  Archy  very  much,  who 
went  on  to  relate  his  experiences  with  Tom 
Battercake. 

But  Mr.  Romaine  seemed  to  find  Letty 
more  than  usually  attractive,  and  soon  estab- 
lished himself  by  her  with  an  air  of  proprietor- 
ship that  ran  both  Sir  Archy  and  Farebrother 


134  A   STRANGE,  SAD    COMEDY 

out  of  the  field  altogether.  He  put  on  his 
sweetest  manner  for  her ;  his  fine  black  eyes 
grew  more  and  more  expressive,  and  he  used 
upon  her  a  great  deal  of  adroit  flattery  which 
was  not  without  its  effect.  He  gave  her  to 
understand  that  he  considered  her  quite  a 
woman  of  the  world.  This  never  fails  to 
please  an  ingenue,  while  it  is  always  wise  to 
tell  a  woman  of  the  world  that  she  is  an  in- 
genue. Letty  really  thought  that  her  visit  to 
Newport  and  her  week  or  two  in  New  York 
had  made  another  girl  of  her.  So  it  had,  in 
one  way.  It  had  taught  her  a  new  manner 
of  arranging  her  hair,  and  several  schemes  of 
personal  adornment,  and  she  had  seen  a  few 
pictures  and  some  artistic  interiors.  But  Letty 
was  a  girl  of  robust  and  well-formed  character 
before  she  ever  saw  anything  of  the  outside 
world  at  all,  and  she  was  not  easily  swayed 
by  any  mere  external  influences;  but  she  was 
acutely  sensitive  to  personal  influences,  and  she 
felt  the  individual  magnetism  of  Mr.  Romaine 
very  strongly.  Sometimes  she  positively  dis- 
liked him,  and  thought  he  affected  to  be 
young,  although  nobody  could  say  he  was 
frivolous — and  thought  him  hard  and  cynical 
and  generally  unlovely.  But  to-day  she  found 


A   STRANGE,  SAD    COMEDY  135 

him  peculiarly  agreeable —  he  artfully  compli- 
mented her  at  every  turn  —  he  was  unusually 
amusing  in  his  conversation,  and  in  fact  laid 
himself  out  to  please  with  a  power  that  he 
possessed,  but  rarely  exerted.  He  had  seen 
in  the  beginning  that  Letty  was  prejudiced 
against  regarding  him  as  a  youngish  man,  and 
this  piqued  him.  He  did  not  pretend,  indeed, 
to  be  young,  but  he  decidedly  objected  to  be 
shelved  along  with  the  Colonel  and  other  fos- 
sils—  and  as  for  Miss  Jemima,  who  was  a  few 
months  younger  than  himself,  he  treated  her 
as  if  she  had  been  his  great-grandmother. 
This,  however,  did  not  disturb  Miss  Jemima's 
placidity  in  the  least. 

The  visit  was  a  long  one,  and  it  was  quite 
dark  before  the  ramshackly  carriage  rattled 
out  of  the  gate  toward  Corbin  Hall.  Mr. 
Romaine  had  made  them  all  promise  to  come 
again  soon,  and  when  they  were  out  of  hear- 
ing, Letty  expressed  an  admiration  for  him 
which  filled  Farebrother  with  a  sudden  and 
excessive  disgust. 


VII 


IlR   ARCHY    and    Farebrother    re- 
mained three  weeks  at  Corbin  Hall, 
and  in  that  time  a  great  many  things 
happened. 

There  was  constant  intercourse  between  the 
two  places,  Corbin  Hall  and  Shrewsbury, 
which  were  only  four  miles  apart.  Neither  of 
the  young  men  made  anything  of  walking 
over  to  Shrewsbury  for  a  little  turn,  nor  did 
the  Chessinghams  and  Miss  Maywood  con- 
sider the  walk  to  Corbin  Hall  anything  but  a 
stroll.  Not  so  Letty,  who  was  no  great  walker, 
but  a  famous  rider.  Nor  did  Mr.  Romaine, 
who  had  a  very  stylish  trap  and  a  well  set-up 
iron-gray  riding  nag  that  speedily  learned  his 
way  to  Corbin  Hall.  Mr.  Romaine  got  to 
coming  over  with  surprising  frequency,  much 
to  Miss  Maywood's  disgust.  The  Colonel 
took  all  of  Mr.  Romaine's  visits  to  himself,  nor 
was  Mr.  Romaine  ever  able  to  convince  him 

136 


A   STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY  137 

that  Letty  was  his  objective  point.  As  for 
Letty,  she  was  a  little  amused  and  a  little  an- 
noyed and  a  little  frightened  at  the  attentions 
of  her  elderly  admirer.  She  did  not  know  in 
the  least  how  to  treat  him  —  and  he  had  so 
much  acuteness  and  finesse,  and  subtlety  of 
all  sorts,  that  he  had  the  distinct  advantage 
of  her  in  spite  of  her  native  mother  wit.  All 
her  skill  was  in  managing  young  men  —  a 
youngish  old  man  was  a  type  she  had  never 
come  across  before  —  as,  indeed,  Mr.  Romaine 
was,  strictly  speaking,  sui  generis.  He  was 
never  persistent  —  he  paid  short  and  very  en- 
tertaining visits.  He  made  no  bones  of  let- 
ting Miss  Jemima  see  that  he  regarded  her  as 
at  least  thirty  years  older  than  himself.  Men 
hug  the  fond  delusion  that  they  never  grow 
old — women  live  in  dread  of  it — and  men  are 
the  wiser. 

Ethel  Maywood,  though,  was  cruelly  disap- 
pointed. She  thought  Mr.  Romaine  was  in 
love  with  Letty,  and  in  spite  of  that  vehement 
protest  Letty  had  made  at  their  very  first 
meeting,  she  did  not  for  one  instant  believe 
that  Letty  would  refuse  so  much  money.  For 
Ethel's  part,  she  sincerely  respected  and  ad- 
mired Mr.  Romaine ;  she  had  got  used  to  his 


138  A    STRANGE,  SAD    COMEDY 

peculiarities,  and  had  fully  made  up  her  mind 
to  be  a  good  wife  to  him  if  Fate  should  be  so 
kind  as  to  give  her  a  chance.  And  now, 
it  was  too  exasperating  that  Letty,  whom  she 
firmly  believed  could  have  either  Farebrother 
or  Sir  Archy,  should  rob  her  of  her  one  op- 
portunity. It  turned  out  though  that  Miss 
Maywood  was  mistaken,  and  Letty  did  not  by 
any  means  enjoy  the  monopoly  with  which  she 
was  credited. 

Chessingham,  in  consequence  of  the  liberal 
salary  paid  him  by  Mr.  Romaine,  had  agreed 
to  remain  with  him  by  the  year  —  and,  of 
course,  Mr.  Romaine  had  nothing  to  do  with 
Chessingham's  womankind,  who  elected  to 
stay,  to  which  Mr.  Romaine  very  willingly 
agreed.  Still,  the  chance  of  Miss  Maywood 
being  some  day  Mrs.  Romaine  was  not  with- 
out its  effect  upon  both  the  young  doctor  and 
his  pretty  wife.  But  shortly  after  their  ar- 
rival at  Shrewsbury,  they  all  became  convinced 
that  this  hope  was  vain. 

One  stormy  November  day,  when  they  had 
been  in  Virginia  about  a  fortnight,  Mr.  Ro- 
maine shut  himself  up  in  the  library  as  he 
usually  did,  and  there  he  remained  nearly  all 
day,  writing  busily.  It  was  too  disagreeable 


A   STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY  139 

for  him  to  go  over  to  Corbin  Hall,  which  he  had 
done  with  uncommon  frequency.  In  fact,  every 
time  he  went  out  to  drive  or  ride  he  either 
said  or  hinted  that  he  was  going  over  there — 
but  he  did  not  always  go.  Mr.  Romaine,  who 
could  pay  like  a  prince  for  other  people,  and 
who  treated  the  Chessinghams  magnificently 
as  regards  money,  delighted  in  sticking  pins 
in  the  people  he  benefited  —  and  it  must  be 
acknowledged  that  much  of  his  attention  to 
Letty  Corbin  came  from  a  malicious  pleasure 
he  took  in  teasing  Miss  Maywood.  After 
these  announcements  as  to  where  he  was  go- 
ing, Mr.  Romaine  would  go  off,  generally  on 
horseback,  his  back  looking  very  young  and 
trim,  while  his  face  looked  white  and  old  and 
bloodless;  but  as  often  as  not  he  turned  his 
horse's  head  away  from  Corbin  Hall  as  soon 
as  he  was  out  of  sight  of  his  own  windows. 
He  would  grin  sardonically  at  the  injured  air 
Ethel  would  wear  upon  these  occasions. 

But  on  this  day  he  saw  no  one,  and  went 
nowhere.  About  five  o'clock,  when  dusk  had 
fallen,  a  message  came.  Mr.  Romaine  desired 
his  compliments  to  Miss  Maywood  and  Mr. 
Chessingham,  and  would  they  come  to  the 
library. 


140  A    STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY 

The  message  surprised  them  both — never- 
theless they  went  with  alacrity.  Mr.  Romaine 
was  walking  up  and  down  the  luxurious  room 
with  a  peculiarly  cheerful  smile,  and  his  black 
eyes  glowing.  A  single  large  sheet  of  paper, 
closely  written,  lay  on  the  library  table. 

"Thank  you  for  coming,"  he  said,  in  his 
sweetest  tones  to  Ethel.  "  I  will  detain  you 
but  a  moment.  I  have  been  engaged  in  what 
is  generally  a  lugubrious  performance — mak- 
ing my  will.  It  is  now  done,  and  I  desire  you 
and  Chessingham  to  witness  it." 

It  gave  a  slight  shock  to  both  of  them. 
Chessingham  had  always  found  Mr.  Romaine 
firmly  wedded  to  the  idea  that,  although  he 
was  full  of  diseases,  he  would  never  die.  He 
made  plans  extending  onward  for  twenty, 
thirty,  and  even  forty  years,  and  although  he 
was  decidedly  a  valetudinarian,  he  indicated 
the  utmost  contempt  for  his  alleged  ailments 
when  it  came  to  a  serious  question.  Miss 
Maywood  felt  that  all  her  hopes  were  dashed 
to  the  ground.  A  man  who  is  thinking  about 
getting  married  does  not  make  his  will  before 
that  event.  She  paled  a  little,  but  being  a 
philosophic  girl,  and  not  being  in  love  with 
Mr.  Romaine,  she  maintained  her  composure 


A   STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY  141 

fairly  well.  "  I  wish  to  read  it  to  you,"  said 
he,  and  then,  placing  a  chair  for  Ethel,  and 
toying  with  \tispince-nez,  he  continued,  with  a 
smile : 

"It  may  astonish  you  —  wills  generally  do 
surprise  people.  But,  after  all,  mine  will  be 
found  not  so  extraordinary.  I  make  a  few  be- 
quests, and  then  I  —  make —  Miss  —  Letty — 
Corbin  —  my  —  residuary  —  legatee." 

Mr.  Romaine  said  this  very  slowly,  so  as 
not  to  miss  its  dramatic  effect.  He  achieved 
all  he  wanted.  Ethel  flushed  violently,  and 
fell  back  in  her  chair.  Chessingham  half  rose 
and  sat  down  again.  None  of  this  was  lost 
on  Mr.  Romaine,  who  could  not  wholly  con- 
ceal his  enjoyment  of  it.  He  began,  in  his 
clear,  well-modulated  voice,  to  read  the  will. 
It  was  just  as  he  said.  He  gave  a  thousand 
dollars  here,  and  a  thousand  dollars  there,  he 
left  Chessingham  five  hundred  dollars  to  buy 
a  memento,  and  then  Letty  Corbin  was  to 
have  the  rest. 

"And  now,"  said  he,  gracefully  handing 
a  pen  to  Miss  Maywood,  "will  you  kindly 
attest  it?" 

In  the  midst  of  Chessingham's  natural  dis- 
appointment and  disgust,  he  could  scarcely 


142  A    STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY 

refrain  from  laughing.  The  whole  thing  was 
so  characteristic  of  Mr.  Romaine.  Ethel  felt 
like  flinging  the  pen  in  his  face,  but  she  was 
obliged  to  sign  her  name,  biting  her  lips  as 
she  did  so,  with  vexation.  Chessingham's 
signature  followed.  Then  both  of  them  went 
out,  leaving  Mr.  Romaine  apparently  in  a  very 
jovial  humor. 

As  soon  as  they  reached  their  own  sitting- 
room,  where  Mrs.  Chessingham  was  waiting, 
devoured  with  curiosity,  Ethel  dissolved  into 
tears  of  anger  and  disappointment. 

"  He  has  made  a  fool  of  me,"  she  sobbed, 
to  Chessingham's  attempted  consolation. 

"Who  is  it  that  Mr.  Romaine  can't  make  a 
fool  of,  when  he  tries  ?  "  asked  Chessingham, 
grimly. 

"  I  think,"  said  Mrs.  Chessingham,  who  had 
much  sound  sense,  "  Mr.  Romaine  acts  the 
fool  himself.  He  has  a  plenty  of  money,  fairly 
good  health  in  spite  of  his  imagination  to  the 
contrary,  and  a  great  deal  to  make  him  happy. 
Instead  of  that,  he  is  about  as  dissatisfied  an 
old  creature  as  I  ever  knew." 

"  Right,"  answered  Chessingham,  "  and, 
Ethel,  I  am  not  at  all  sure  that  you  have  n't 
made  a  lucky  miss." 


A   STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY  143 

"That  may  be,"  said  Ethel,  drying  her 
eyes,  "but  all  the  same,  everybody  expected 
him  to  offer  himself  to  me.  When  we  left 
England  it  was  considered,  you  remember,  by 
all  the  people  we  knew,  that  it  was  as  good 
as  an  engagement.  And  now  —  to  have  to  go 
back  —  "  here  Ethel  could  say  no  more. 

"And  Letty  Corbin  —  who,  I  believe,  really 
dislikes  him,"  said  Mrs.  Chessingham. 

"  Don't  be  too  sure  about  Letty,"  remarked 
Chessingham.  "It  's  just  as  likely  as  not 
that  he  will  make  another  will  to-morrow. 
All  this  may  be  simply  to  enliven  the  dulness 
of  the  country,  and  to  give  Ethel  warning  that 
she  is  wasting  her  time.  You  notice,  he  ex- 
acted no  promise  of  us  —  he  probably  wants 
us  to  tell  this  at  Corbin  Hall.  /  sha'n't 
oblige  him,  for  one." 

"  Nor  I,"  added  Ethel.  "And  one  thing  is 
certain,  I  shall  go  back  to  England.  I  am 
missing  all  my  winter  visits  by  staying  here, 
and  I  may  not  be  able  to  make  a  good  ar- 
rangement for  the  season  in  town  —  so  I  think 
I  shall  go." 

Both  Chessingham  and  his  wife  thought 
this  a  judicious  thing.  Ethel  was  twenty- 
seven  and  had  no  time  to  lose,  and  she  was 


144  A   STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY 

clearly  wasting  it  buried  in  the  country  —  or 
rather  in  the  wilderness,  as  she  considered  it. 
And,  besides,  the  Chessinghams  were  fully 
convinced  that  Mr.  Romaine  would  not  stay 
long  at  Shrewsbury.  It  was  a  mere  freak  in 
the  beginning,  and  they  already  detected  signs 
of  boredom  in  him. 

Within  a  few  days  Chessingham  mentioned 
to  him  casually  that  Miss  Maywood  would 
return  to  England  at  the  first  convenient  op- 
portunity. Mr.  Romaine  received  the  news 
with  a  sardonic  grin  and  many  expressions 
of  civil  regret. 

"  My  dear  Miss  Maywood,"  he  said,  the 
next  time  he  ran  across  her,  "  you  cannot 
imagine  what  a  gap  your  absence  will  make  to 
me.  However,  since  your  decision  is  made, 
all  I  can  do  will  be  to  provide  as  far  as  possi- 
ble for  your  comfort  during  your  journey  back 
to  England.  I  will  even  let  Chessingham  off 
to  take  you  to  New  York,  and  every  day, 
while  you  are  at  sea,  I  will  arrange  that  you 
shall  have  some  reminder  of  those  that  you 
have  left  behind  in  Virginia." 

"Thank  you,"  stiffly  responded  the  practi- 
cal Ethel,  who  thought  that  Mr.  Romaine  had 
behaved  like  a  brute. 


A   STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY  145 

The  news  of  her  impending  departure  was 
conveyed  to  Letty  one  afternoon  when  the 
two  girls  were  sitting  comfortably  over  Letty's 
bedroom  fire  —  for  although  there  was  still 
no  love  lost  between  them,  they  found  no 
difficulty  in  maintaining  a  feminine  entente  cor- 
diale.  Letty  was  surprised  and  said  so. 

"  Of  course,"  said  Ethel,  who  could  not 
banish  her  injuries  from  her  mind,  "  it  will 
be  embarrassing  to  go  back.  Some  mali- 
cious people  will  say  that  Mr.  Romaine  has 
jilted  me  —  but  there  is  not  a  word  of  truth 
in  it." 

"  Certainly  not,"  cried  Letty,  energetically. 
"  Who  on  earth  would  believe  that  you  would 
marry  that  old  —  pachyderm  ?  "  Letty  hunted 
around  in  her  mind  for  an  epithet  to  suit  Mr. 
Romaine,  but  could  think  of  nothing  better 
than  the  one  she  used. 

"  I  'm  afraid  plenty  of  people  will  believe 
it,"  answered  Ethel,  with  a  faint  smile  —  and 
then  the  womanish  incapacity  to  keep  a  secret 
that  is  not  bound  by  a  promise  made  her  tell 
Letty  the  very  thing  she  had  declared  she 
would  not  tell  her. 

"  It  sounds  rather  ungrateful  of  you  to  talk 
that  way,  for  Mr.  Romaine  intends  conferring 


146  A    STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY 

a  very  great  benefit  —  the  greatest  benefit  — 
on  you." 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  "  asked  the  surprised 
Letty. 

"  Only  this.  A  week  or  two  ago  he  called 
Reggie  and  me  into  the  library  one  afternoon, 
and  there  lay  his  will  on  the  library  table  — 
and  he  asked  us  to  act  as  witnesses  and  read 
us  the  will  —  and  you  are  —  " 

Ethel  paused  a  moment.  Letty  was  lean- 
ing forward  deeply  interested. 

"Did  he  leave  me  money  for  a  pair  of  pearl 
bracelets  ?  "  she  cried. 

"  No.  He  made  you  his  residuary  legatee, 
after  giving  away  a  few  thousand  dollars  to 
other  people,"  answered  Ethel. 

Letty  was  quick  of  wit,  and  took  in  at  once 
what  Ethel  meant.  Mr.  Romaine  had  left  her 
his  fortune. 

She  grew  a  little  pale  and  lay  back  in  her 
chair.  Her  first  feelings  were  full  of  contra- 
dictions, as  her  emotions  always  were  where 
Mr.  Romaine  was  concerned.  Money  was  a 
delightful  thing  —  she  had  found  that  out  — 
but  Mr.  Romaine's  money !  And  sometimes 
she  hated  Mr.  Romaine,  and  laughed  at  him 
behind  his  back  —  and  now  she  would  have  to 


A   STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY  147 

be  very  attentive  to  him,  and  to  let  him  see 
that  she  felt  her  obligations  to  him.  While 
this  was  passing  through  her  mind  in  a  chaotic 
way,  she  suddenly  remembered  to  ask : 

"  Did  Mr.  Romaine  authorize  you  to  tell 
me  this  ?  " 

"  Not  exactly,"  said  Ethel.  "  But  he  said 
nothing  about  keeping  it  secret,  and  Reggie 
says  he  is  convinced  Mr.  Romaine  wishes  us 
to  mention  it  —  for  he  is  a  very  secretive  man 
usually,  and  never  omits  any  precaution  when 
he  wishes  a  thing  kept  quiet." 

Letty  remained  strangely  still  and  silent. 
She  was  staggered  by  what  Ethel  told  her, 
and  thoroughly  puzzled  —  and  she  had  a  vague 
feeling  that  Mr.  Romaine  had  taken  an  un- 
warrantable liberty  with  her. 

"I  think,"  said  Ethel,  "that  he  wants  to 
marry  you,  and  he  imagines  this  will  incline 
you  to  him." 

"  In  that  case,"  replied  Letty,  rising  with 
dignity,  "  Mr.  Romaine  makes  a  very  great 
mistake.  Nothing  on  earth  would  induce  me 
to  marry  him." 

Ethel  did  not  stay  long  after  this,  and  Letty 
was  left  alone. 

Sir  Archy  and  Farebrother  had  not  yet  re- 


I48  A    STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY 

turned  from  their  day's  sport.  Letty  knew 
that  her  grandfather  would  be  likely  to  be 
sitting  alone  in  the  library,  and  the  impulse  to 
tell  him  this  strange  and  not  wholly  pleasing 
thing  took  hold  of  her.  She  ran  down-stairs 
rapidly,  opened  the  door,  and  there,  in  the 
dusky  afternoon,  dozing  before  the  fire,  was 
the  Colonel,  with  a  volume  of  Goldsmith  open 
upon  his  knee. 

Letty  went-  up  to  him  and  touched  him 
gently. 

"  Grandpapa,"  she  said. 

"  I  was  not  asleep,  my  dear,"  answered  the 
Colonel,  very  promptly,  without  waiting  for 
the  accusation. 

"If  you  were,"  said  Letty,  with  nervous 
audacity,  "  what  I  'm  about  to  tell  you  will 
wake  you  up." 

She  hesitated  for  a  moment,  in  order  to 
convey  the  news  in  a  guarded  and  appropri- 
ate manner  —  and  then,  suddenly  burst  out 
with  — 

"Grandpapa — Mr.  Romaine  has  made  his 
will  and  left  me  nearly  all  his  money." 

The  Colonel  fairly  jumped  from  his  chair. 
He  thought  Letty  had  lost  her  mind. 

"  He  has,  indeed,"  she  continued,  in  a  half- 


A   STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY  149 

stifled,  half-laughing  voice.  "  He  read  his 
will  to  Ethel  Maywood  and  Mr.  Chessing- 
ham,  and  got  them  to  sign  it  as  witnesses." 

The  Colonel  could  do  nothing  but  gasp  for 
a  few  moments.  Then  he  lapsed  into  an 
amazed  silence  —  his  shaggy  brows  drawn 
together,  and  his  deep-set  eyes  fixed  on  Letty's 
agitated  face. 

"  And  there  is  something  else  Ethel  May- 
wood  said,"  kept  on  Letty,  with  her  face  grow- 
ing scarlet,  "  something  that  made  me  very 
angry  with  Mr.  Romaine,  and  I  don't  like  him, 
anyhow,"  she  said. 

"  Go  on,"  commanded  the  Colonel,  in  a 
tragic  basso. 

"She  thinks — that — that — Mr.  Romaine 
wants  to  m — m — marry  me — and  he  fancies 
this  will  win  me  over,"  said  Letty,  faintly. 

"The  old  ass!"  bawled  the  Colonel,  for 
once  roused  out  of  his  placid  dignity.  "Ex- 
cuse me,  my  love,  but  this  is  simply  too  pre- 
posterous !  When  you  first  spoke,  I  assure 
you,  I  was  alarmed — I  was  actually  alarmed 
—  I  thought  you  did  not  know  what  you  were 
saying.  But,  on  reflection,  knowing,  as  I  do, 
Romaine's  perverse  and  peculiar  character,  I 
can  wholly  believe  what  you  tell  me." 


150  A   STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY 

The  Colonel  paused  a  moment,  and  then 
the  same  idea  that  occurred  to  Chessingham 
came  to  him. 

"And  the  making  of  a  will  does  n't  mean 
the  enjoyment  of  the  property,  my  love.  Ro- 
maine  may  have  a  passion  for  making  wills — 
some  rich  men  have — and  this  may  be  one  of 
a  dozen  he  may  make." 

Letty  said  nothing.  Money  was  the  greatest 
good  fortune  in  the  eyes  of  the  world — but 
the  scheme  devised  for  her  eventual  enrich- 
ment had  serious  drawbacks.  Mr.  Romaine 
might  live  for  twenty  years — even  Mr.  Chess- 
ingham himself  did  not  know  precisely  what 
were  the  old  gentleman's  real  maladies,  and 
what  were  his  imaginary  ones  —  and  that 
would  mean  twenty  years  of  subservience  on 
her  part  toward  a  man  for  whom  she  now  felt 
a  positive  repulsion.  She  caught  herself  wish- 
ing that  Mr.  Romaine  would  die  soon  —  and 
was  frightened  and  ashamed  of  herself.  And 
now  Mr.  Romaine's  relatives  would  hate  her ! 

"All  of  the  Romaine  people  will  hate  me," 
she  said,  with  pale  lips,  to  the  Colonel  —  they 
were  both  standing  up  now  before  the  fire, 
and  although  the  ruddy  blaze  made  the  room 
quite  light,  it  was  dark  outside. 


A   STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY  151 

"  Yes,"  answered  the  Colonel,  gloomily, 
"  and  they  may  claim  undue  influence  on  your 
part,  and  then  there  may  be  a  lawsuit  and  the 
devil  to  pay  generally.  Excuse  my  language, 
my  dear." 

The  Colonel  was  completely  shaken  out  of 
his  usual  composure,  and  expressed  himself  in 
what  he  was  wont  to  call  —  "  the  vulgar  —  the 
excessively  vulgar  tongue."  "  I  foresee  a  peck 
of  trouble  ahead,"  he  continued. 

"  One  thing  is  certain,"  said  Letty,  raising 
her  eyes,  "  I  feel  that  I  hate  Mr.  Romaine  — 
and  with  that  feeling,  I  ought  not  in  any  event 
to  take  his  money.  And  if,  as  you  say,  he  is 
merely  amusing  himself  at  my  expense,  and 
trying  to  annoy  his  family,  and  —  and  —  Ethel 
Maywood  and  the  Chessinghams,  I  hate  him 
worse  than  ever." 

"  If  such  is  your  feeling,  you  undoubtedly 
should  protest  against  Romaine's  action." 

Then  there  was  a  commotion  in  the  hall. 
Farebrother  and  Sir  Archy  and  Tom  Batter- 
cake  had  got  home,  and  there  was  a  rattle 
of  guns  on  the  rack,  and  Tom  Battercake 
was  guffawing  over  the  contents  of  the  game 
bags. 

Both  Letty  and  the  Colonel  had  plenty  of 


152  A   STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY 

self-possession,  and  no  one  during  the  even- 
ing would  have  suspected  that  anything  out 
of  the  common  had  occurred.  But  Letty  went 
to  bed  early  and  lay  awake  half  the  night, 
while  her  dislike  for  Mr.  Romaine  grew  like 
Jonah's  gourd. 

Next  morning,  as  soon  as  the  coast  was 
clear,  the  Colonel  sent  for  Letty  into  the 
library. 

"  I  want  to  say  to  you,  my  love,"  he  began 
at  once,  "  that  I  believe  this  thing  that  Ro- 
maine has  done  is  not  done  in  good  faith.  He 
is  the  sort  of  man  to  leave  his  property  to 
perpetuate  his  name  in  a  library  or  something 
of  that  kind.  And,  moreover,  if  he  should 
even  be  in  good  faith,  his  relations  are  not  the 
people  to  let  so  much  money  go  to  a  compara- 
tive stranger  without  a  struggle.  They  have 
been  looking  to  him  now,  for  two  generations, 
to  set  them  on  their  feet,  and  they  will  be  in- 
furiated with  you.  And  they  will  have  just 
cause — for,  after  reflection,  I  am  convinced 
that  grave  injustice  will  be  done  if  this  money 
comes  to  you.  Then,  your  personal  dis- 
like—" 

"  Personal  dislike  !  say  personal  hatred ;  for 
I  assure  you  I  have  felt  something  more  than 


A   STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY  153 

mere  dislike  ever  since  I  heard  of  this.  Queer, 
is  n't  it?" 

"  Not  at  all,"  replied  the  Colonel,  with  the 
ghost  of  a  smile.  "Your  amiable  sex  is  sub- 
ject to  aberrations  of  that  description.  How- 
ever, I  think,  on  the  whole,  that  nothing  but 
trouble  will  result  if  this  plan  of  Romaine's  is 
carried  out  —  and  I  would  be  glad  to  see 
it  prevented." 

The  Colonel  had  no  more  idea  of  the  prac- 
tical value  of  money  than  a  baby.  Nor  had 
Letty  much  more  —  and  besides,  she  had  youth 
and  beauty  and  esprit,  and  so  had  managed  to 
get  on  very  well  so  far  without  a  fortune. 
The  Colonel's  views  decided  her. 

"  Then,  grandpapa,  the  best  thing  to  do 
seems  to  me  to  be  the  most  direct  and  straight- 
forward thing.  Write  to  Mr.  Romaine  and  tell 
him  frankly  what  we  have  heard,  and  say  that 
I  prefer  not  to  incur  the  obligation  he  would 
lay  upon  me." 

"  Precisely  what  I  desired  you  to  say,"  re- 
plied the  Colonel,  highly  gratified. 

It  required  both  of  them  to  compose  the 
letter  to  Mr.  Romaine,  but  at  last  it  was  fin- 
ished, copied  off  in  the  Colonel's  best  clerk- 
like  hand  with  a  quill  pen,  and  sealed  with  his 


154  A   STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY 

large    and    flamboyant   seal.     This   was   the 
letter : 

CORBIN  HALL,  November  21,  18 — 
MY  DEAR  ROMAINE: 

Circumstances  of  a  peculiar  character  necessitate  this 
communication  on  my  part,  and  I  am  constrained  to  ap- 
proach you  in  regard  to  a  subject  on  which  otherwise  I 
would  observe  the  most  punctilious  reticence.  This  refers 
to  certain  testamentary  intentions  on  your  part  concerning 
my  granddaughter,  which  she  and  I  have  heard  through 
direct  and  responsible  sources.  Many  reasons  influence 
my  granddaughter  in  desiring  me  to  say  to  you,  that  with 
the  keenest  sense  of  the  good  will  on  your  part  toward  her, 
and  with  assurances  of  the  most  profound  consideration, 
she  feels  compelled  to  decline  absolutely  the  measures 
you  have  devised  for  her  benefit.  Of  these  many  reasons, 
I  will  give  only  one,  but  that,  my  dear  Romaine,  will  be 
conclusive.  It  would  be  a  very  flagrant  wrong,  I  con- 
ceive, to  those  of  your  own  blood,  who  might  justly  ex- 
pect to  be  the  beneficiaries  of  your  bounty,  to  find  them- 
selves passed  over  in  favor  of  one  who  has  not  the  slightest 
claim  of  any  kind  upon  you.  This  would  place  my  grand- 
daughter in  a  most  painful  position,  and  might  result  in 
legal  complications  extremely  embarrassing  to  a  delicate 
minded  person  of  the  gentler  sex.  She  begs,  therefore, 
through  this  medium,  that  you  will  change  your  kind  in- 
tentions toward  her  and  not  bestow  upon  her  that  to  which 
she  apprehends  others  are  better  entitled  than  herself. 
With  renewed  assurances  of  respect  and  regard,  believe 
me  to  be,  my  dear  Romaine, 

Your  friend  and  well-wisher, 

ARCHIBALD  CORBIN. 


A   STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY  155 

This,  which  both  the  Colonel  and  Letty 
thought  a  grand  composition,  was  despatched 
to  Shrewsbury  by  Tom  Battercake.  Tom  re- 
turned within  an  hour  or  two,  with  a  missive. 
The  Colonel  sent  for  Letty  to  the  library  to 
read  it.  It  was  written  with  a  fine  pointed 
pen,  upon  delicately  tinted  paper  with  a  hand- 
some crest.  It  ran  thus : 

Nov.  21. 
DEAR  CORBIN: 

You   always   were   the   most  impractical    man    about 
money  I  ever  knew.     I  shall  do  as  I  please  with  my  own. 

Yours  truly, 

RICH.  ROMAINE. 

"Most  curt  and  unhandsome,"  cried  the 
Colonel,  flushing  angrily.  "  What  does  he 
take  me  for  ?  I  shall  at  once  express  my  sen- 
timents in  writing  regarding  this  extraordi- 
nary communication  from  Romaine." 

"No,  grandpapa,"  cried  Letty,  who  agreed 
with  the  Colonel  in  thinking  Mr.  Romaine's 
letter  extremely  impertinent,  "I  '11  answer  it." 

Once  in  a  while  Letty  had  her  way,  and 
this  was  one  of  the  occasions.  She  sat  down 
at  the  library  table,  and,  with  the  angry  blood 
mantling  her  face,  dashed  off  the  following  to 
Mr.  Romaine. 


156  A   STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY 

"  Just  listen  to  this,  if  you  please,"  she  cried, 
flourishing  her  pen  in  dangerous  proximity  to 
the  Colonel's  nose.  "  I  think  Mr.  Romaine 
will  find  that  he  has  got  a  Roland  for  his 
Oliver." 

Then,  in  a  melodramatic  voice,  she  read : 

MY  DEAR  MR.  ROMAINE: 

As  you  say,  you  have  a  right  to  do  as  you  please  with 
your  own.  This  personal  liberty  pertaining  to  you  like- 
wise pertains  to  me  —  and  I  decline  positively  to  be  bene- 
fited against  my  will.  I  will  not  have  your  money.  Par- 
don me  if  I  have  copied  your  own  brevity  and  positiveness 
in  settling  this  question.  I  am, 

Very  truly  yours, 

LETTY  CORBIN. 

The  Colonel  chuckled  over  this  letter ;  nev- 
ertheless it  was  against  his  code  to  send  it, 
but  Letty  was  firm,  and  Tom  Battercake  was 
despatched  for  the  second  time  that  day  to 
Shrewsbury,  with  an  important  communica- 
tion. 

Letty  was  radiant  with  triumph.  It  was 
no  mean  victory  to  achieve  over  Mr.  Romaine. 

"  And  if  he  reads  between  the  lines  he  will 
see  that  he  won't  be  here  with  those  sharp 
black  eyes  and  that  cackling  laugh  of  his  when 


A   STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY  157 

it  comes   to   disposing  of  his  property,"  she 
gleefully  remarked  to  the  Colonel. 

But  her  triumph  only  lasted  until  Tom  Bat- 
tercake's  return.  He  brought  the  following 
letter  from  Mr.  Romaine : 

MY  DEAR  Miss  CORBIN  : 

Your  spirited  and  delightful  letter  has  just  been  received. 
Permit  me  to  say  that  I  have  been  so  charmed  with  your 
disinterestedness  and  freedom  from  that  love  of  money 
which  is  the  cancer  of  our  age,  that  it  only  determines  me 
the  more  to  allow  my  well-considered  will  to  stand.  I 
need  only  make  the  alteration  of  leaving  the  property  in 
trust  for  you,  so  that  it  will  be  out  of  your  power  to  dis- 
pose of  the  principal,  even  to  give  it  to  my  relatives  — 
whom  I  particularly  do  not  desire  to  have  it.  All  I  ask  is 
that  you  continue  to  me  the  kindness  you  have  always 
shown  me.  My  ailments  become  daily  more  complicated 
and  acute,  but  still  I  possess  great  vitality,  and  I  would  be 
deceiving  you  if  I  gave  you  to  understand  that  you  would 
not  have  long  to  wait  for  your  inheritance.  But  whether 
you  treat  me  well  or  ill,  it  and  myself  are  both 
Forever  yours, 

RICH.  ROMAINE. 

» 

At  the  conclusion  of  the  reading  of  this 
letter  Letty  sat  down  and  cried  as  if  her  heart 
would  break,  from  pure  spite  and  chagrin  at 
Mr.  Romaine's  "  outrageous  behavior,"  as  she 
and  the  Colonel  agreed  in  calling  it. 


VIII 

'R.  ROMAINE  had  certainly  suc- 
ceeded perfectly  in  a  pastime  dear 
to  his  heart  —  setting  everybody  by 
the  ears.  Colonel  Corbin  was  deeply  offended 
with  him,  and  made  no  secret  of  it. 

"  For,  if  the  time  should  come,"  he  said, 
with  dignity,  to  Letty  and  Miss  Jemima,  "  that 
Romaine's  relations  may  accuse  us  of  playing 
upon  Romaine  and  getting  his  money  out  of 
him,  I  desire  to  be  able  to  prove  that  we  were 
not  on  terms  with  him.  Therefore,  I  shall 
only  treat  him  with  the  merest  civility.  I 
shall  certainly  not  go  to  Shrewsbury,  and  I 
trust  he  will  not  come  to  Corbin  Hall." 

Futile  hope !  Mr.  Romaine  came  twice  as 
often  as  he  had  ever  done  before,  and  the 
Colonel  and  Letty  found  it  practically  impos- 
sible to  freeze  him  out.  Meanwhile,  another 
complication  came  upon  Letty,  who  seemed 
destined  to  suffer  all  sorts  of  pains  and  penal- 
ise 


A   STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY  159 

ties  for  what  are  commonly  counted  the  good 
things  of  life.  She  had  privately  determined 
that  it  would  take  all  her  diplomatic  powers 
to  avert  an  offer  from  both  Sir  Archy  and 
Farebrother  —  for  there  was  something  of 
"the  fierceness  of  maidenhood"  about  her  — 
and  she  was  not  yet  beyond  the  secret  liking 
stage  with  Farebrother,  whom  she  infinitely 
preferred.  But  it  dawned  upon  her  gradually 
that  Farebrother  himself  was  an  adept  in  the 
art  of  walking  the  tight  rope  of  flirtation.  He 
would  talk  to  Letty  in  the  rainy  days,  when  he 
could  not  get  out  of  doors,,  by  the  hour,  in 
such  a  way  that  Letty's  heart  would  be  in  her 
mouth  for  fear  the  inevitable  offer  would  come 
in  spite  of  her.  But  after  a  while  she  discov- 
ered that  Farebrother  could  look  down  without 
flinching  from  the  dizzy  height  of  sentimental 
badinage,  and  then  quietly  walk  away.  In  a 
little  while  these  tactics  of  his  bore  fruit. 
Letty,  from  being  very  much  afraid  that  he 
would  propose,  began  to  be  very  much  piqued 
that  he  did  not  propose.  Kindness  was  then 
lavished  upon  him — sweet  looks  on  the  sly, 
and  every  encouragement  was  given  him  to 
make  a  fool  of  himself,  in  order  that  Letty 
might  be  revenged  on  him.  But  Farebrother 


160  A   STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY 

declined  to  accept  the  invitation.  He  was 
shrewd  enough  to  see  that  Letty's  design  in 
leading  him  on  was  simply  to  throw  him  over 
—  and  he  had  no  intention  to  be  slaughtered  to 
make  a  coquette's  holiday.  And  he  knew  be- 
sides that  Letty  had  a  heart  —  that  she  was  a 
•perfect  specimen  of  the  Southern  type,  which 
coquettes  with  the  whole  world,  only  to  make 
the  most  absolute  surrender  to  one  man  — 
and  that  her  heart  was  not  to  be  won  by  let- 
ting her  make  a  football  of  his. 

The  two  men  watched  each  other  stealthily, 
but  Farebrother,  in  quickness  of  resource,  had 
much  the  advantage  of  Sir  Archy.  And  he 
was  clear  sighted  enough  to  see  that  there  was 
something  wrong  between  the  Corbins  and 
Mr.  Romaine.  All  at  once  the  Colonel  and 
Letty  ceased  going  to  Shrewsbury,  and  once 
when  he  suggested  casually  to  Letty  that  they 
ride  over  to  see  the  Chessinghams  and  Miss 
Maywood,  the  Colonel  interfered,  with  a  flush 
upon  his  wrinkled  face. 

"  I  would  prefer,  my  dear  Farebrother,"  he 
said,  "  that  my  granddaughter  should  not  go 
to  Shrewsbury  at  present.  Rest  assured  that 
my  reason  is  a  good  one  —  else  I  would  not 
commit  so  grave  a  solecism  toward  a  guest  in 


A   STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY  161 

my  house  as  to  object  to  her  going  anywhere 
with  you." 

Farebrother  was  completely  puzzled  —  the 
more  so  that  the  objection  was  all  on  the  Col- 
onel's side  —  for  Mr.  Romaine  had  been  at 
Corbin  Hall  the  day  before  alone,  and  the  day 
before  that  with  Chessingham's  womankind. 
He  had  noticed  some  slight  constraint  on 
Letty's  part,  but  the  Colonel  had  been  absent 
both  times.  He  said  no  more  about  going  to 
Shrewsbury,  and  privately  resolved  to  go  there 
no  more  except  for  a  farewell  visit.  This  gave 
him  distinctly  the  advantage  over  Sir  Archy, 
whose  long  intimacy  and  real  friendship  with 
Chessingham  made  it  natural  and  inevitable 
that  he  should  go  often  to  Shrewsbury. 

Letty,  however,  was  no  more  capable  of 
keeping  an  unpledged  secret  than  Ethel  May- 
wood,  and  one  afternoon,  walking  through 
the  pine  woods  with  Farebrother,  the  whole 
story  about  Mr.  Romaine  and  his  will  came 
out. 

Farebrother  sat  down  on  a  fallen  log  and 
shouted  with  laughter. 

"The  old  imp ! "  he  cried,  and  laughed  the 
more. 

"  Of  course,"  said  Letty,  laughing  in  spite 


1 62  A    STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY 

of  herself,  "  I  really  don't  believe  it  is  in  ear- 
nest. Grandpapa  says  people  who  make  their 
wills  so  openly  commonly  have  a  passion  for 
making  wills,  and  he  has  no  doubt  Mr.  Ro- 
maine  is  merely  doing  this  for  some  present 
object." 

"  Certainly,"  cried  Farebrother,  laughing 
still.  "It  's  his  own  peculiar  Romainesque 
way  of  giving  Miss  Maywood  warning.  Pray 
pardon  me  for  hinting  such  a  thing,  but  Miss 
Maywood  herself  has  acted  with  such  delicious 
candor  about  the  whole  matter  that  it 's  ab-' 
surd  to  pretend  ignorance.  Now  what  a  dev- 
ilish revenge  the  old  Mephistopheles  took !  " 

Farebrother  seemed  so  carried  away  by  his 
enjoyment  of  Mr.  Romaine's  tactics  in  giving 
Miss  Maywood  the  slip  that  Letty  was  quite 
offended  with  him  for  his  lack  of  interest  in  her 
side  of  the  case.  But  at  last  he  condescended 
to  be  serious.  It  was  a  soft  and  lovely  au- 
tumn afternoon,  the  red  sun  slanting  upon  the 
straggling  woods,  and  making  golden  vistas 
through  the  trees.  It  was  hushed  and  still. 
It  had  rained  that  day,  and  the  air  was  filled 
with  the  aromatic  odor  of  the  dead,  wet  leaves. 
Farebrother  had  remained  seated  on  the  log 
to  have  his  laugh  out,  but  Letty  had  got  up 


A   STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY  163 

and  was  standing  over  him  in  an  indignant 
attitude,  one  hand  thrust  in  the  pocket  of  her 
natty  jacket,  while  with  the  other  she  grasped 
firmly  the  brim  of  her  large  black  hat,  under 
which  her  eyes  shone  with  a  peculiar,  soft 
splendor.  Farebrother  thought  then  that  he 
had  never  seen  her  pale,  piquant  beauty  to 
greater  advantage. 

"  But  if  you  could  for  one  moment  take 
your  mind  off  Miss  Maywood,  and  consider 
my  grievances,"  said  she,  tartly.  "  Can  you 
imagine  anything  more  odious?  Here  is  Mr. 
Romaine  pretending  —  for  I  don't  believe  it 's 
anything  but  that  he  is  trying  to  make  a  fool 
of  me  —  pretending,  I  say,  that  he  means  to 
leave  me  a  fortune  some  day  —  and  he  is  just 
perverse  enough  to  ignore  any  objection  I  may 
make,  not  only  to  his  plans,  but  to  himself — 
for  I  assure  you,  I  really  dislike  him,  although 
I  pity  him,  too.  Then  suppose  he  dies  and 
does  leave  me  the  money  !  You  never  heard 
of  such  tribes  of  poor  relations  as  he  has,  in 
your  life,  and  all  of  them,  as  grandpapa  says, 
have  counted  on  Mr.  Romaine's  money  for 
forty  years.  He  has  one  niece  —  as  poor  as 
poverty,  with  nine  —  shoeless  —  hatless  — 
shabby  children  —  who  has  actually  conde- 


164  A   STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY 

scended  to  beg  for  help  from  him  —  and  what 
do  you  think  she  will  say  of  me  when  the  truth 
comes  out?  And  there  are  whole  regiments 
of  nephews  —  and  cousins  galore  —  and  the 
entire  family  are  what  grandpapa  calls  '  liti- 
gious '  —  they  'd  rather  go  to  law  than  not  — 
oh,  I  can  shut  my  eyes  and  see  the  way  these 
people  will  hound  me  for  that  money,  that  af- 
ter all  should  be  theirs." 

Farebrother  was  grave  enough  now.  He 
rose  and  went  and  stood  by  her. 

"  Money,  my  dear  Miss  Corbin,  is  like  elec- 
tricity or  steam,  or  any  other  great  force  —  it 
is  dangerous  when  it  is  unmanageable.  How- 
ever, he  said,  lightly,  "  as  I  Ve  had  to  part  with 
some  lately,  I  Ve  had  to  call  up  all  the  old 
saws  against  it  that  I  could  think  of." 

"But  I  don't  believe  you  are  very  sorry 
about  your  money." 

"  Sorry  ?  Then  you  don't  know  me.  I  ex- 
perienced the  keenest  regret  when  I  discov- 
ered that,  according  to  my  father's  will,  I  came 
out  at  the  little  end  of  the  horn  in  the  event 
of  disaster,  because,  as  the  dear  old  gentleman 
said,  I  was  well  able  to  take  care  of  myself. 
Of  course  I  said  the  handsome  thing  —  when 
the  crash  came — especially  to  Colonel  Corbin, 


A   STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY  165 

who  would  have  kicked  me  out  of  his  house 
if  I  had  n't  —  but  I  assure  you  I  did  n't  feel  in 
spirits  for  a  whole  week  after  the  financial 
earthquake." 

Letty  looked  at  him  smiling.  She  was  not 
a  bad  judge  of  human  nature  and  much 
shrewder  than  she  looked,  and  she  read  Fare- 
brother  like  an  open  book  —  and  liked  the 
volume. 

"  But  then,  your  profession  ?  " 

"  Oh,  yes,  my  profession.  Well,  the  first 
thing  that  cheered  my  gloom  was  when  I  got 
a  contract  for  an  eight-story  granite  business 
building.  I  met  on  the  street  that  very  day 
the  fellow  I  told  you  of  once  —  a  clever  archi- 
tect, but  who  has  a  wife  and  an  army  of  chil- 
dren on  him,  and  who  always  looked  at  me 
reproachfully  in  the  old  days  when  we  met  — 
and  I  had  the  satisfaction  of  telling  him  that 
it  was  work  or  starvation  with  me  now  —  and 
he  spoke  out  the  thought  I  had  read  so  often 
in  his  mind  before  — '  It  's  all  right  now,  but 
when  I  saw  you  driving  those  thoroughbreds 
round  the  Park,  in  that  imported  drag  of  yours, 
and  heard  of'you  buying  the  pick  of  the  pictures 
at  the  exhibition,  while  I  had  seven  children 
to  bring  up  and  educate  on  my  earnings,  it 


166  A   STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY 

did  seem  deuced  hard  that  you  should  enter 
into  competition  with  us  poor  devils.'  So  I 
reminded  him  that  the  thoroughbreds  and  the 
pictures  and  a  few  other  things  were  going 
under  the  hammer,  and  the  wretch  actually 
grinned.  But  I  '11  tell  you  what  I  have  found 
out  lately  —  that  there  's  such  a  thing  as  good- 
fellowship  in  the  world.  There  is  n't  any 
among  rich  men.  They  are  all  bent  on  amus- 
ing themselves  or  being  amused.  They  are 
so  perfectly  independent  of  each  other  that 
there  is  n't  any  room  for  sentiment  —  while 
among  poorer  men  they  are  all  interdependent. 
They  have  to  help  each  other  along  in  plea- 
sures and  work,  and  that  sort  of  thing  —  and 
that 's  why  it  is  that  comradeship  exists  among 
them  as  it  cannot  exist  among  the  rich." 

"  I  never  knew  anything  about  money  until 
that  visit  to  Newport,"  said  Letty,  candidly. 
"We  had  bills  —  and  when  the  wheat  crop 
was  sold  it  paid  the  bills  —  that  is,  as  far  as  it 
would  go  —  for  the  wheat  crop  never  was 
quite  as  much  as  we  expected,  and  the  bills 
were  always  a  great  deal  more  than  we  ex- 
pected. But  I  found  the  spending  of  that 
money  in  New  York  delightful." 

"So  did  I,"  answered  Farebrother.    "Never 


A    STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY  167 

enjoyed  anything  more  in  my  life.  You  had 
more  actual,  substantial  fun  in  spending  that 
money  than  my  sisters  have  out  of  so  many 
thousands." 

"But  I  think,"  remarked  the  astute  Letty, 
"  that  it  is  more  the  way  we  show  it.  Your 
sisters  are  used  to  money — " 

"That  's  it  —  and  so  it  is  as  necessary  to 
them  as  the  air  we  breathe — but  as  we  breathe 
air  all  the  time,  we  are  not  conscious  of  any 
ecstatic  bliss  in  doing  it." 

"  Perhaps  —  but,  you  see,  I  am  bent  on  en- 
joyment, and  I  am  bent  on  showing  it  as  well 
as  feeling  it." 

"In  short,  you  are  a  very  wise  girl,"  said 
Farebrother,  smiling,  "and  I  think  it  is  a  pity 
that  you  are  so  determined  on  never  bestow- 
ing so  much  wisdom  and  cheerfulness  on  some 
man  or  other." 

"  I  have  never  said  I  would  n't." 

"  Oh,  not  in  words  perhaps,  but  I  imagine 
a  fixed  determination  on  your  part  to  hold  on 
to  your  liberty.  You  may,  however,  succumb 
to  the  charms  of  Sir  Archy  Corbin,  of  Fox 
Court." 

Farebrother  emphasized  the  "  Sir"  and  the 
"Fox  Court"  in  a  way  that  Letty  thought 


168  A   STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY 

disagreeable  —  and  how  dared  he  talk  so 
coolly  of  her  marrying  Sir  Archy,  without  one 
single  qualifying  word  of  regret?  And  just 
as  Farebrother  intended,  his  suggestion  did 
not  help  her  to  regard  Sir  Archy  with  any 
increase  of  favor. 

"There  he  is  now,"  cried  Farebrother,  "shall 
I  make  off  so  as  to  give  him  a  chance  ? 

Letty  was  so  staggered  by  the  novelty 
and  iniquity  of  Farebrother's  perfect  willing- 
ness to  give  her  up  to  Sir  Archy  that  she 
could  not  recover  herself  all  at  once  —  and  the 
next  thing,  Sir  Archy  had  tramped  through 
the  underbush  to  them,  looking  wonderfully 
handsome  and  stalwart  in  his  knickerbockers 
and  his  glengarry  pulled  over  his  eyes. 

If  Letty  found  that  Farebrother  was  always 
joking  and  difficult  to  reduce  to  seriousness, 
she  could  find  no  such  fault  with  Sir  Archy. 
He  was  the  literal  and  exact  Briton,  who  took 
everything  au  serieux,  and  whose  humor  was 
of  the  broad  and  obvious  kind  that  prevails  in 
the  tight  little  island.  He  was  as  much  puz- 
zled by  the  status  of  affairs  between  Letty  and 
Farebrother  as  Ethel  Maywood  was  —  and 
could  hardly  refrain  sometimes  from  classing 
Letty  as  a  flirt  —  a  word  that  meant  to  him 


A   STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY  169 

everything  base  and  dishonorable  in  woman- 
kind —  for  a  flirt,  from  his  point  of  view,  was 
a  girl  with  a  little  money,  who  led  younger 
sons  and  rash  young  officers  and  helpless  cu- 
rates to  believe  that  she  could  be  persuaded  to 
marry  one  of  them,  and  ended  by  hooking  a 
mature  baronet,  or  an  elder  son,  with  a  good 
landed  property. 

Flirtation  on  the  American  plan,  merely  to 
pass  away  the  time,  and  with  no  ulterior  ob- 
ject whatever,  was  altogether  incomprehensi- 
ble to  him.  And  Letty's  perfect  self-posses- 
sion !  No  tell-tale  blush,  but  a  look  of  the 
most  infantile  innocence  she  wore,  when  she 
was  caught  in  the  very  act  of  taking  a  sen- 
timental walk  with  a  man !  The  genuine 
American  girl  —  not  the  imitation  Anglo- 
American  formed  by  transatlantic  travel  — 
was  a  very  queer  lot,  thought  Sir  Archy, 
gravely. 

"  Where  have  you  been  ?"  asked  Letty,  with 
an  air  of  authority,  which  she  alternated  with 
the  most  charming  submissiveness. 

"At  Shrewsbury,"  answered  Sir  Archy. 

"Ah,  I  know  —  we  all  know.  There  's  a 
magnet  at  Shrewsbury." 

Now,  to  be  chaffed  about  a  girl,  and  par- 


170  A   STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY 

ticularly  a  girl  like  Miss  Maywood — to  whom 
he  had  undeniably  paid  certain  attentions,  was 
both  novel  and  unpleasant  to  Sir  Archy,  so  he 
only  answered  stiffly,  "  I  don't  quite  under- 
stand your  allusion." 

"Why,  Ethel  Maywood,  of  course!"  cried 
Letty.  "  Does  anybody  suppose  that  you 
would  go  so  often  to  see  that  wicked  old  man 
at  Shrewsbury  ?  or  Mrs.  Chessingham  and 
her  husband  ?  " 

"  If  you  suppose  that  there  is  anything  more 
than  friendship  between  Miss  Maywood  and 
myself,  you  are  mistaken  —  and  the  suspicion 
would  do  Miss  Maywood  great  injustice,"  said 
Sir  Archy,  with  dignity. 

"  Oh,  if  you  think  it  would  hurt  Miss  May- 
wood  to  have  it  supposed  that  you  are  devoted 
to  her  —  " 

"  I  did  not  intend  to  say  that,"  answered  Sir 
Archy,  who  was  neither  a  liar  nor  a  hypocrite, 
and  who  knew  well  enough  how  baronets  with 
unencumbered  estates  are  valued  matrimoni- 
ally. "I  only  meant  to  state,  most  emphati- 
cally, that  there  is  nothing  whatever  between 
Miss  Maywood  and  myself--  and  justice 
requires  —  " 

"Justice  —  fudge!"    cried  Letty,  with  ani- 


A   STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY  171 

mation ;  "who  ever  heard  of  justice  between 
a  man  and  a  woman  ? " 

"  I  have,"  answered  Sir  Archy,  senten- 
tiously. 

"And  next,  you  will  be  saying  that  women 
are  bound  by  the  same  rules  of  behavior  as 
men,"  continued  Letty,  with  pretty  but  vicious 
emphasis. 

Farebrother  looked  on  without  taking  any 
part  in  the  scrimmage,  and  was  infinitely  di- 
verted. 

"  I  hardly  think  I  understand  you,"  said 
Sir  Archy,  much  puzzled. 

"I  '11  explain  then,"  replied  Letty.  "  I 
mean  this;  that  a  man  should  be  the  soul  of 
honor  toward  a  woman — honorable  to  the 
point  of  telling  the  most  awful  stories  for  her 
— and  always  taking  the  blame,  and  never  ac- 
cusing her  even  if  he  catches  her  at  the  crook- 
edest  sort  of  things  —  and  giving  her  all  the 
chicken  livers,  and  the  breast  of  duck,  and 
always  pretending  to  believe  her  whether  he 
does  or  not." 

"And  may  I  ask,"  inquired  Sir  Archy,  who 
took  all  this  for  chaff,  without  crediting  in 
the  least  the  amount  of  sincerity  Letty  felt  in 
her  code,  "  may  I  ask  what  is  exacted  of  a 


172  A    STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY 

woman  in  her  treatment  of  men,  as  a  return 
for  all  this  ? " 

"Nothing  whatever,"  replied  Letty,  airily; 
"a  man  has  no  rights  that  a  woman  is  bound 
to  respect  —  that  is,  in  this  glorious  land." 

"  It  strikes  me  that  your  rule  would  work 
very  one-sidedly." 

"  It  's  a  bad  rule  that  works  both  ways," 
declared  Letty,  solemnly. 

Sir  Archy  did  not  believe  a  word  of  all  this; 
but  Farebrother  thought  that  Letty  had  not 
really  over-stated  her  case  very  much. 

Presently  they  all  turned  round  and  walked 
home  through  the  purple  twilight.  The  path 
led  through  the  woods  to  the  straggling  edges 
of  the  young  growth  of  trees  on  the  borders 
of  a  pasture,  now  brown  and  bare.  A  few 
lean  cattle  browsed  about — the  Colonel  spent 
a  good  deal  of  time  and  money,  as  his  fathers 
had  done  before  him,  in  getting  the  grass  out 
of  his  fields,  and  raising  fodder  for  his  stock, 
instead  of  letting  the  grass  grow  for  them  to 
fatten  on  — -  so  they  were  very  apt  to  be  lean 
for  nine  months  in  the  year.  The  path  led 
across  the  pasture  to  the  whitewashed  fence 
that  enclosed  the  lawn.  A  young  moon 
trembled  in  the  opal  sky.  As  they  walked 


A   STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY  173 

along  in  Indian  file  they  felt  their  feet  sinking 
in  the  soft,  rich  earth.  The  old  brick  house, 
with  its  clustering  great  trees,  loomed  large 
before  them,  and  a  ruddy  light  from  the  library 
windows  shone  hospitably.  The  dogs  ran 
yelping  toward  them  as  they  crossed  the  lawn, 
old  Rattler  giving  subdued  whines  of  delight. 
The  thoughts  of  both  Sir  Archy  and  Fare- 
brother,  all  the  way  home,  had  been  how  de- 
licious that  twilight  walk  would  have  been 
with  Letty,  had  only  the  other  fellow  been 
out  of  it. 

When  they  got  in  the  house  there  were 
letters — the  mail  only  came  twice  a  week, 
and  Tom  Battercake  brought  the  letters  and 
papers  in  a  calico  bag  from  the  postoffice, 
eight  miles  off.  Farebrother  read  his  letters 
with  a  scowl.  He  had  meant  to  stay  a  few 
days  longer — in  fact,  he  determined  to  stay  as 
long  as  Sir  Archy,  if  he  could — but  he  dis- 
covered that  he  could  not. 

"Business,"  he  said — "I  am  a  working 
man,  you  know,  and  employers  and  contractors 
won't  wait — so  I  shall  have  to  take  the  boat 
to-morrow." 

The  Colonel  and  Miss  Jemima  were  profuse 
in  their  regrets — Letty  was  civil  and  Sir 


174  A    STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY 

Archy  was  positively  gay,  when  it  was  fixed 
that  Farebrother  should  go  the  next  day. 
Still,  the  supper  table  was  cheerful.  Fare- 
brother  had  a  very  strong  hope  that  Letty 
and  Sir  Archy  never  would  be  able  to  under- 
stand each  other  enough  to  enter  into  a  matri- 
monial agreement ;  and  then,  he  was  deter- 
mined to  show  Miss  Letty  that  he  was  by 
no  means  heartbroken  at  the  prospect  of 
leaving  her. 

None  of  the  men  who  had  admired  Letty 
Corbin  understood  her  so  well  as  Farebrother. 
The  others  had  paid  her  court,  more  or  less 
sincere,  but  Farebrother,  when  he  became 
really  interested  in  her,  saw  that  such  tactics 
would  never  do.  Instead,  he  made  it  his 
business  to  pique  her,  so  artfully  that  Letty 
was  completely  blind  to  the  facts  in  the  case, 
and  her  determination  was  aroused  to  conquer 
this  laughing,  careless,  stiff-necked  admirer, 
whose  conduct  to  her  was  very  like  her  con- 
duct to  others.  In  the  first  place,  the  idea 
that  he  should  come  all  the  way  from  New 
York,  upon  what  seemed  likely  to  turn  out  a 
purely  platonic  errand,  was,  from  her  point  of 
view,  a  most  iniquitous  proceeding.  She  did 
not  want  any  man — but  she  vehemently  and 


A   STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY  175 

innocently  demanded  the  homage  of  all.  And 
when  a  man  calmly  retained  his  heart  and  his 
reason,  while  she  invited  him  to  lose  both, 
was  in  the  highest  degree  exasperating.  But 
Farebrother  absolutely  declined  presenting  his 
head  to  Letty  on  a  charger,  even  when  they 
were  alone  in  the  great  cold  drawing-room, 
under  the  pretense  of  hearing  some  farewell 
waltzes  from  Letty's  fingers,  and  it  seemed 
almost  unavoidable  that  he  should  say  some- 
thing sentimental.  He  remained  obstinately 
cheerful,  and  kept  it  up  until  the  last. 

He  had  to  leave  Corbin  Hall  at  five  o'clock 
in  the  morning,  so  Letty,  secretly  much  dis- 
gusted with  him  on  account  t)f  his  callousness, 
had  to  say  farewell  the  night  before.  The 
Colonel  would  be  up  the  next  morning,  and 
Miss  Jemima,  to  give  him  breakfast,  but  Letty 
gave  no  hint  of  any  such  intention.  They 
had  a  very  jolly  evening  in  the  library,  the 
Colonel  being  in  great  feather  and  telling 
some  of  his  best  stories  while  he  brewed  the 
family  punch  bowl  full  of  apple  toddy.  Miss 
Jemima,  too,  had  been  induced  by  the  most 
outrageous  flattery  on  Farebrother's  part  to 
bring  out  her  guitar,  and  to  sing  to  them  in  a 
thin,  sweet  voice  some  desperately  sentimental 


176  A    STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY 

songs  of  forty  years  before — "Oh  No,  We 
Never  Mention  Her,"  "When  Stars  are  in  the 
Quiet  Skies,"  and  "  Ben  Bolt."  It  was  very 
simple  and  primitive.  The  two  men  of  the 
world  enjoyed  it  much  more  than  many  of  the 
costliest  evenings  of  their  lives,  and  neither 
one  could  remember  anything  quite  like  it. 
The  life  at  Corbin  Hall  was  as  simple  and 
quaint  as  that  of  the  poorest  people  in  the 
world — and  yet  more  refined,  more  gently 
bred,  than  almost  any  of  the  rich  people  in  the 
world. 

At  eleven  o'clock,  Letty  rose  to  go.  Fare- 
brother  lighted  her  candle  for  her  from  those 
on  the  rickety  hall  table,  and  escorted  her  to 
the  foot  of  the  stairs.  It  really  did  cost  him 
an  effort  then  to  play  the  cheerfully  departing 
guest.  There  was  no  doubt  that  Letty  had 
been  vastly  improved  by  her  touch  with  the 
outside  world.  She  had  learned  to  dress  her- 
self, which  she  did  not  know  before  —  and  she 
had  learned  a  charming  modesty  concerning 
herself —  and  she  was  quite  unspoiled.  She 
still  thought  Corbin  Hall  good  enough  for 
anybody  in  the  world,  and  although  she  ad- 
mired satin  damask  chairs  and  sofas  and  art 
drapery,  she  still  cherished  an  affection  for 


A   STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY  177 

hair  cloth  and  dimity  curtains.  This  ineradi- 
cable simplicity  of  character  was  what  charmed 
Farebrother  most  —  she  would  always  retain 
a  delightful  freshness,  and  she  never  could 
become  wholly  sophisticated. 

"  I  can't  tell  you  how  much  I  have  enjoyed 
being  here,"  he  said  to  her,  with  hearty  sin- 
cerity, as  he  stood  at  the  foot  of  the  stairs, 
looking  up  at  Letty.  She  held  the  candle  a 
little  above  her  head,  and  its  yellow  circle  of 
flame  fell  on  her  pure,  pale  face  —  for  this 
young  lady  who  tried  so  hard  to  make  fools 
of  men,  had  the  air,  the  face,  and  the  soul  of 
a  vestal. 

Letty  nodded  her  head  gravely. 

"  Of  course  you  have  enjoyed  yourself.  We 
are  such  an  —  ahem  —  agreeable  family." 

"  I  should  say  so  !  And  to  get  into  a  com- 
munity where  people  won't  even  talk  about 
divorce  —  and  where  nobody  chases  the  dollar 
very  hard  —  and  where  the  dear  Colonel  is 
considered  a  very  practical  man  —  pray  excuse 
me,  Miss  Corbin,  but  I  do  think  your  grand- 
father the  noblest  old  innocent !  " 

"  I  know  it.  Grandpapa  is  innocent.  So 
is  Aunt  Jemima.  I  am  the  only  worldling  in 
the  family." 


1 78  A   STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY 

"My  dear  young  friend, —  for  you  must 
allow  me  to  address  you  as  a  father  after  that 
astounding  statement, —  you  are  not,  and  never 
can  be  worldly  minded.  You  are  a  very 
clever  girl  —  but  it  is  the  wisdom  of  the  dove, 
not  of  the  serpent." 

"  Very  graceful  indeed.  I  thank  you.  You 
have  a  pretty  wit  when  you  choose  to  exercise 
it.  Now,  good-by.  I  hope  so  much  I  shall, 
some  time  or  other,  see  —  your  sisters  — 
again." 

"  Oh,  hang  my  sisters  !  Don't  you  want  to 
see  me  again  ?  " 

"Y-y-yes.  A  little.  A  very  little."  But 
while  saying  this,  her  hand  softly  returned 
Farebrother's  clasp. 

It  was  still  dark  next  morning,  when  Letty 
slipped  out  of  bed  and  ran  to  the  window, 
pulling  aside  the  dimity  curtains  —  she  had 
heard  the  old  carriage  rattling  up  to  the  door. 
The  moon  had  gone  down,  but  the  stars  still 
shone  in  the  blue  black  sky.  Presently  Fare- 
brother  came  out,  accompanied  by  the  Colonel. 
Letty  could  hear  their  voices,  and  saw  Fare- 
brother  take  off  his  hat  as  he  shook  the  Col- 
onel's hand.  Then  he  sprang  into  the  car- 
riage. Tom  Battercake  gave  the  restless 


A   STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY  179 

horses  a  cut  with  a  long  sapling  with  all  the 
twigs  cut  off,  and  in  two  minutes  the  rig  had 
disappeared  around  the  turn  in  the  lane. 
Letty  crept  back  to  bed,  feeling  as  if  some- 
thing pleasant  had  suddenly  dropped  out  of 
her  life.  She  determined  to  go  to  sleep  again, 
and  to  sleep  as  late  as  she  could.  There  was 
no  object  in  going  down  to  breakfast  early  — 
only  Sir  Archy  would  be  there.  Then  she 
began  to  think  about  Farebrother  —  and  her 
last  conscious  thought  was  :  "  A  man  so  hard 
to  get  must  be  worth  having." 


IX 


EAN  WHILE,  a  period  of  convulsion 
was  at  hand  for  the  happy  family  at 
Shrewsbury.  As  soon  as  it  was  de- 
cided that  Miss  Maywood  was  to  return  to 
England,  a  number  of  obstacles  arose,  as  if  by 
magic,  to  her  departure — and  they  were  all 
inspired  by  Mr.  Romaine.  As  she  was  to 
cross  alone  he  declared  that  she  must  do  it 
only  under  the  charge  of  a  certain  captain — 
and  when  inquiries  were  made  at  the  steam- 
ship office  in  New  York,  it  turned  out  that  this 
particular  captain  had  a  leave  of  absence  on 
account  of  ill  health,  and  would  not  command 
his  ship  again  until  after  Christmas.  Mr.  Ro- 
maine proposed  to  wait  for  this  event,  if  it 
did  not  occur  until  midsummer.  Then  some 
acquaintances  were  discovered  who  intended 
sailing  almost  immediately,  but  Mr.  Romaine 
suddenly  grew  very  ailing,  and  could  not  part 

180 


A   STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY  181 

with  Mr.  Chessingham  to  take  his  sister-in- 
law  to  New  York.  Besides  he  found  every 
imaginable  fault  with  the  proposed  traveling 
companions,  and  the  Chessinghams  and  Ethel 
felt  that,  after  enjoying  Mr.  Romaine's  hospi- 
tality for  so  long,  they  ought  to  defer  to  him 
as  regarded  the  impending  departure.  There- 
fore, although  Miss  Maywood  had  undoubt- 
edly got  her  conge  from  Mr.  Romaine,  she  was 
still  under  his  roof  well  on  in  December,  and 
it  looked  as  if  he  would  succeed  in  doing  to 
her  what  Letty  complained  of  in  her  own  case 
—  making  a  fool  of  her.  Ethel  was  really  very 
anxious  to  leave ;  but  this  reluctance  to  give 
her  up  on  the  part  of  her  elderly  and  eccentric 
friend  made  her  wonder  sometimes  whether, 
after  all,  Mr.  Romaine  would  let  her  return  to 
England  without  him.  He  openly  declared 
that  he  was  tired  of  Virginia  and  meant  to  take 
a  house  in  London  for  the  season ;  and  he  ac- 
tually engaged,  by  correspondence,  a  charm- 
ing house  at  Prince's  Gate,  from  the  first  of 
April.  Ethel  felt  that  it  would  be  flying  in  the 
face  of  Providence  to  insist  upon  going,  as 
long  as  there  was  a  chance  of  her  presiding 
over  the  house  in  Prince's  Gate.  And  the  lib- 
erty and  spending-money  enjoyed  by  Ameri- 


182  A   STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY 

can  women  seemed  daily  more  pleasing  to  her. 
Whatever  could  be  said  against  Mr.  Romaine, 
his  worst  enemy  could  not  charge  him  with 
meanness.  He  gave  with  a  princely  generos- 
ity that  made  Ethel — who  thought  that  no- 
body got  more  than  three  per  cent,  interest 
on  money — think  he  was  worth  millions.  Sir 
Archy  had  gone  away  from  Corbin  Hall  a  few 
days  after  Farebrother  left,  but  was  to  return 
after  Christmas ;  but  Ethel  put  Sir  Archy  out 
of  her  mind  altogether — she  was  eminently 
reasonable,  and  never  counted  upon  the 
vaguely  brilliant. 

The  beginning  of  more  serious  upheavals 
was  the  announcement,  one  day,  from  Bridge, 
Mr.  Romaine's  own  man,  and  Dodson,  who  was 
also  Mr.  Romaine's  man,  but  waited  on  Mr. 
Chessingham,  that  they  desired  to  leave  at  the 
end  of  the  month ;  and  Carroll,  the  ladies' 
maid,  gave  simultaneous  warning. 

"  I  'ave  been,  sir,  with  Mr.  Romaine  for  six- 
teen year,  and  I  'ave  put  hup  with  'im,  and  I 
could  put  hup  with  'im  for  sixteen  year  more; 
but  this  stoopid  country  and  the  willainous 
blacks  is  too  much  for  me,"  Bridge  announced 
to  Chessingham,  with  an  injured  air.  Dodson 
followed  suit,  and  Carroll  tearfully  explained 


A   STRANGE,  SAD    COMEDY  183 

that  she  'ad  been  in  mortial  terror  ever  since 
she  first  knew  the  blacks,  for  fear  they  would 
kill  and  eat  her. 

Chessingham  was  secretly  much  delighted 
with  this,  and  confided  his  feelings  to  his  wife 
and  Ethel. 

"It  will  take  the  old  curmudgeon  back  to 
London  quicker  than  anything  on  earth  that 
could  have  been  devised,"  he  said.  "  He  can't 
get  on  without  Bridge  —  nobody  else,  I '  m  told, 
ever  stayed  with  him  more  than  three  months 
—  and  he  '11  be  forced  to  quit." 

In  the  library  a  characteristic  interview  was 
taking  place  between  Bridge  and  his  master. 
Bridge,  feeling  like  a  felon,  announced  his  de- 
termination to  leave. 

"  That  's  quite  satisfactory,"  remarked  Mr. 
Romaine,  raising  his  black  eyes  from  his  book. 
"  I  have  been  thinking  for  some  time  that  I 
needed  a  younger  and  more  active  man.  I 
do  not  like  men  of  any  sort  when  they  become 
antiquated." 

Bridge  opened  his  mouth  to  speak,  but  dared 
not.  He  was  at  least  twenty  years  younger 
than  Mr.  Romaine,  and  there  he  was  re- 
proached with  his  age ! 

However,   some  faint  stirring  of  the  heart 


184  A   STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY 

toward  the  man  he  had  served  so  long,  and 
who  had  given  him  some  kicks,  but  a  good 
many  ha'pence,  too,  made  him  say  hesita- 
tingly : 

"  Wot 's  troublin'  me,  sir,  is  how  is  you  goin' 
to  be  hattended  to  when  you  're  hill;  and  how 
is  you  to  get  shaved,  sir  ?  " 

"  As  to  my  attendance  when  I  am  ill,  that  is 
a  trifle  ;  and  shaving  will  be  unnecessary,  as  I 
have  intended  for  some  time  past  to  turn  out 
a  full  beard,"  promptly  responded  Mr.  Ro- 
maine.  "Now  you  may  go.  When  you  are 
ready  to  leave  come  to  me  and  I  will  give  you 
a  check." 

The  idea  of  Mr.  Romaine  in  a  full  beard 
drove  Bridge  immediately  into  the  pantry, 
where  he  confided  the  news  to  Dodson,  and 
they  both  haw-hawed  in  company. 

Nevertheless,  the  loss  of  his  man,  who  knew 
some  secrets  about  his  health,  was  a  very  seri- 
ous one  to  Mr.  Romaine.  Also,  he  had  never 
shaved  or  dressed  himself  in  his  life,  and  to 
him  immaculateness  of  attire  was  a  necessity. 
He  turned  the  ridiculous  and  embarrassing 
question  over  in  his  mind  —  how  was  he  to 
get  shaved  ? — until  it  nearly  drove  him  to  ask- 
ing Bridge  to  reconsider  his  decision.  But 


A   STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY  185 

before  doing  that,  he  went  over  to  Corbin 
Hall  one  day,  where  a  new  solution  of  the  dif- 
ficulty presented  itself. 

It  was  a  bright,  wintry  day  in  December 
when  he  was  ushered  into  the  shabby  library, 
where  sat  the  Colonel.  Now,  although  none 
of  the  family  from  Corbin  Hall  had  darkened 
the  doors  of  Shrewsbury  for  a  month  past, 
Mr.  Romaine  had  calmly  ignored  this,  and 
had  treated  the  Colonel's  studied  standoffish- 
ness  with  the  most  exasperating  nonchalance. 
Colonel  Corbin  could  not  be  actively  rude  to 
any  one  to  have  saved  his  own  life,  and  the  ex- 
tent of  his  resentment  was  shown  merely  in 
not  visiting  Mr.  Romaine,  and  receiving  him 
with  a  stiffness  that  he  found  much  more  diffi- 
cult to  maintain  than  Mr.  Romaine  did  to  en- 
dure. The  struggle  between  the  Colonel's  nat- 
ural and  sonorous  urbanity  toward  a  guest 
and  his  grave  displeasure  with  Mr.  Romaine 
was  desperate ;  and  Mr.  Romaine,  seeing  it 
with  half  an  eye,  enjoyed  it  hugely.  The  idea 
of  taking  Colonel  Corbin  seriously  was  exces- 
sively ludicrous  to  him ;  and  the  Colonel's  ex- 
pectation of  being  taken  seriously  on  all  occa- 
sions he  thought  the  most  diverting  thing  in 
the  world. 


186  A   STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY 

"  How  d'  ye  do,  Corbin  ?  "  said  Mr.  Romaine, 
entering  with  a  very  jaunty  air. 

"  Good-day,  Mr.  Romaine,"  answered  the 
Colonel,  sternly  —  and  then  suddenly  and  un- 
expectedly falling  into  his  habitual  tone,  he 
continued,  grandiloquently : 

"  Has  your  horse  been  put  up,  and  may  we 
have  the  satisfaction  of  entertaining  you  at 
dinner  ?  " 

"  Oh,  Lord,  no,"  answered  Mr.  Romaine, 
smiling ;  "  I  merely  came  over  to  see  how  you 
and  Miss  Corbin  were  coming  on  —  and  to 
ask  you  a  most  absurd  question." 

"  My  granddaughter  is  coming  on  very 
well.  For  myself,  at  my  time  of  life  —  and 
yours,  too,  I  may  say — there  is  but  one  thing 
to  do  —  which  constitutes  coming  on  well  — 
and  that  is  to  prepare  for  the  ferriage  over 
the  dark  river." 

"  I  do  not  anticipate  needing  the  services 
of  the  ferryman  for  a  good  while  yet,  and  my 
heirs,  I  apprehend,  will  have  a  long  wait  for 
their  inheritance,"  snapped  Mr.  Romaine,  who 
was  always  put  in  a  bad  humor  by  any  allu- 
sion to  his  age.  Colonel  Corbin,  though, 
could  not  stand  Mr.  Romaine's  hasty  allusion 
to  his  heirs,  and  without  saying  a  word,  turned 


A   STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY  187 

away,  and  with  a  portentous  frown  began  to 
stare  out  of  the  window. 

Mr.  Romaine,  after  a  moment  or  two, 
cooled  down  and  proceeded  to  make  amends 
in  his  own  peculiar  fashion  for  his  remark. 

''•  Excuse  me,  Corbin,  but  you  are  so  devilish 
persistent  on  the  subject  of  my  age  that  I  in- 
advertently used  an  illustration  I  should  not 
have  done  had  I  reflected  for  one  instant 
whom  I  was  addressing.  But  I  take  it  that 
no  gentleman  will  hold  another  accountable 
for  a  few  words  said  in  heat  and  under  provo- 
cation. Remember,  '  an  affront  handsomely 
acknowledged  becomes  an  obligation.' " 

"  Your  acknowledgment,  sir,  was  not  what  I 
should  call  a  handsome  one." 

"  Hang  it,  Corbin,  we  can't  quarrel.  Here 
I  am  in  trouble,  and  I  have  come  to  you,  as  to 
my  friend  of  forty  years,  to  help  me  out." 

It  was  always  hard  for  the  Colonel  to 
maintain  his  anger,  and  Mr.  Romaine,  when 
he  said  this,  put  on  one  of  his  characteristic 
appealing  looks,  and  spoke  in  his  sweetest 
voice,  and  the  Colonel  could  not  help  relaxing 
a  little. 

"  I  think  you  understand,  Romaine,  the  at- 
titude I  feel  compelled  to  assume  toward  you ; 


i88  A    STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY 

but  —  but  —  if  you  are  really  in  unpleasant 
circumstances — " 

"  Deuced  unpleasant,  I  assure  you.  I  Ve 
had  a  man  for  sixteen  years — never  knew 
him  to  make  a  mistake,  to  be  off  duty  when 
required,  or  to  have  any  serious  fault — and 
now  he  swears  he  can't  stand  Virginia  any 
longer,  and  intends  leaving  me  in  the  lurch. 
I  can't  stand  Virginia  much  longer  myself,  but 
I  don't  want  the  villain  to  know  that  his  loss 
is  actually  driving  me  back  to  England  before 
my  time.  But  the  case  is  this — I  can't  shave 
myself.  Does  that  black  fellow  of  yours, 
David,  shave  you  ?  " 

"  I  always  shave  myself — but  David  under- 
stands the  art  of  shaving,  and  has  practised  it 
on  guests  upon  various  occasions,  with  much 
success." 

"  I  wish  you  would  send  him  over  to 
Shrewsbury  to-morrow.  If  I  can't  get  a  man 
by  the  time  Bridge  leaves — which  will  be 
next  week —  I  might  ride  over  here  every 
day,  and,  with  your  permission,  make  use  of 
David's  services  until  I  can  get  a  capable 
white  man." 

To  say  "  No "  was  generally  impossible  to 


A    STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY  189 

the  Colonel,  so  he  weakly  yielded.  He  would 
send  David  over  on  the  next  day. 

Mr.  Romaine  did  not  ask  to  see  Letty,  and 
went  off  after  a  short  visit,  leaving  the  Colonel 
in  a  very  bad  humor  indeed. 

Nevertheless,  next  day  Dad  Davy  appeared 
and  was  introduced  into  Mr.  Romaine's  bed- 
room. Dad  Davy  was  not  only  honored  by 
being  thought  capable  of  shaving  Mr.  Ro- 
maine, but  he  had  brought  his  implements 
with  him  in  a  rusty-looking  rush  basket. 

"  You  may  know  that  I  am  about  to  dismiss 
my  man ;  and  I  desired  to  find  out  if  I  could 
get  any  sort  of  a  barber,  in  case  there  might 
be  delay  in  the  arrival  of  a  man  from  New 
York  that  my  agent  will  send  me,"  said  Mr. 
Romaine.  He  was  sitting  in  a  large  chair, 
with  a  newspaper  in  his  hand,  and  wore  a 
flowered  silk  dressing-gown,  and  evidently 
had  not  been  shaved. 

"Lord,  yes,  sir;  I  kin  shave  er  gent'mun," 
answered  Dad  Davy,  with  visions  of  a  silver 
quarter  illuminating  his  imagination.  "  I  done 
brung  some  new  shavin'  things  wid  me,  and 
ef  you  wuz  to  let  me  git  de  hot  water,  I  kin 
trim  yo'  face  jes'  ez  clean  ez  er  b'iled  onion." 


190  A   STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY 

"Very  well;  you  may  try  your  hand,"  said 
Mr.  Romaine,  picking  up  his  paper.  "There 
is  the  shaving-table." 

Dad  Davy  tiptoed  over  to  the  shaving- 
table,  and  examined  suspiciously  the  silver 
toilet  articles,  the  spirit-lamps,  scented  soaps, 
etc.,  etc.  Mr.  Romaine,  absorbed  in  his  paper, 
presently  heard  Dad  Davy,  in  an  apologetic 
tone,  saying : 

"  Marse  Richard,  I  k'yarn  do  nuttin'  wid 
dem  gorgeousome  things.  I  got  some  mighty 
good  soap  here,  an'  a  new  shavin'-bresh ;  an' 
ef  you  will  jes'  lem  me  took  yo'  razor  —  " 

"  All  right,"  answered  Mr.  Romaine,  deep 
in  his  paper. 

In  a  few  minutes  Dad  Davy  remarked, 
"  I  'se  ready,"  and  Mr.  Romaine,  lying  back 
in  his  chair,  shut  his  eyes,  while  Dad  Davy 
began  the  lathering  process.  When  it  was 
about  half  done  Mr.  Romaine  began  sniffing 
suspiciously,  but  he  could  not  open  his  mouth. 
Dad  Davy  then  began  with  the  razor,  and  a 
smoother  or  more  luxurious  shave  Mr.  Ro- 
maine never  had  in  his  life.  As  soon  as  he 
could  speak,  he  growled  : 

"What  infernal  soap  is  that  you  Ve  got 
there?" 


A   STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY  191 

"  Hi,  Marse  Richard,"  answered  Dad  Davy, 
in  a  surprised  voice.  "  I  got  de  bes'  kin'  o' 
soap  fur  shavin'.  Dis  heah  is  de  bes'  sort  o' 
sof  soap,  made  outen  beef  taller  an'  ash  lye — 
none  o'  your  consecrated  lye,  but  de  drippin's 
f  um  er  reg'lar  lye  gum,  full  o'  hick'ry  ashes 
—  an'  I  brung  er  go'd  full." 

Dad  Davy  produced  a  large  gourd  full  of  a 
molasses-like  substance,  which  he  poked  under 
Mr.  Romaine's  high-bred  nose. 

"  Good  heavens !  "  yelled  Mr.  Romaine, 
jumping  up  and  seizing  a  towel  with  much 
violence. 

"  Now,  Marse  Richard,  what  you  gwine  on 
dat  way  fur  ?  Sof  soap  is  de  bes'  fur  shavin'. 
Did  n't  I  gin  you  er  easy  shave  ?  " 

"  Yes,  you  did — but  this  villainous  stuff — 
where  's  your  shaving-brush  ?  " 

Dad  Davy  triumphantly  produced  a  shav- 
ing-brush made  mop-fashion  by  tying  a  mass 
of  cotton  threads  to  a  short  wooden  handle. 

"  My  ole  'oman  made  dis  heah,"  said  Dad 
Davy,  exhibiting  this  instrument  with  great 
pride.  "She  make  'em  fur  ole  Marse  —  and 
dis  heah  is  er  bran  new  one  —  co'se  I  war  n' 
goin'  use  no  u'rr  but  a  new  one  fur  you,  Marse 
Richard  —  " 


192  A    STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY 

Mr.  Romaine  looked  in  speechless  disgust 
from  Dad  Davy  to  the  rusty  basket,  the 
"  go'd  "  of  soap,  and  the  mop  for  a  shaving- 
brush.  But  without  one  word  he  sat  down 
again,  and  Dad  Davy  finished  the  job  in  per- 
fect style.  Just  as  he  had  got  through,  a  tap 
came  at  the  door,  and  Bridge  entered  —  and 
came  very  near  dropping  dead  in  his  tracks 
at  the  paraphernalia  of  the  new  barber.  Mr. 
Romaine  was  saying  affably : 

"  A  most  satisfactory  shave  —  the  best  I  Ve 
had  for  years.  I  would  prefer,  however,  my 
own  things  next  time.  Give  me  the  bay  rum." 

Dad  Davy  soused  his  client  with  bay  rum, 
and  then  taking  up  the  gourd,  mop,  etc.,  put 
them  in  the  basket,  and  stood,  expectant  of  his 
quarter. 

"  Here  's  a  dollar  for  you,"  said  Mr.  Ro- 
maine ;  "  and  say  to  Colonel  Corbin  I  am 
much  obliged  for  your  visit  to-day  —  and  if  I 
had  as  good  a  barber  as  you  I  should  not 
follow  his  plan  of  shaving  himself." 

Dad  Davy,  although  secretly  astounded  at 
the  magnificence  of  the  gift,  disdained  to  show 
his  delight  before  "po*  white  trash,"  as  he  re- 
garded Bridge,  and  making  a  profound  bow, 
took  himself  and  his  basket  off. 


A   STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY  193 

Bridge,  however,  after  the  manner  of  his 
kind,  seeing  his  master  independent  of  him, 
began  to  reflect  that  he  had  a  good  place  and 
high  wages,  and  that  if  Mr.  Romaine  was 
a  difficult  master  to  serve,  all  masters  had 
their  faults;  and  he  finally  concluded  to  stay. 
He  went  to  Mr.  Romaine  therefore  a  few  days 
afterward,  and  with  much  shuffling,  hemming, 
and  hawing,  declared  his  willingness  to  re- 
main, provided  Mr.  Romaine  went  to  England 
in  April.  At  this  Mr.  Romaine  expressed 
much  surprise,  and  declared  that  his  return  to 
England  was  quite  problematical  and  might 
never  occur.  Bridge,  though,  saw  unmistak- 
able signs  that  Mr.  Romaine's  latest  freak  had 
outworn  itself,  and  at  last  knuckled  down 
completely  —  when  he  was  restored  to  favor. 
Dodson  then  followed  the  prevailing  wind  and 
asked  to  be  reinstated ;  and  Carroll,  the  maid, 
being  a  diffident  maiden  of  forty,  declared  she 
could  n't  think  of  traveling  alone  from  Vir- 
ginia to  New  York ;  and  so,  with  the  delays 
attending  Miss  Maywood's  departure,  it  looked 
as  if  the  Shrewsbury  party  would  depart  intact 
as  when  it  came. 

But  a  disturbance  greater  than  any  that 
yet  occurred  was  now  impending,  and  was 
13 


194  A    STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY 

brought  about  by  the  innocent  agency  of  Colo- 
nel Corbin. 

One  evening  the  Colonel  had  his  two  fine 
horses  hitched  up  to  a  two-wheeled  chaise 
which  had  been  resurrected  from  the  loft  of 
the  carriage-house  during  the  emergencies  of 
the  war  time,  and  started  out  for  the  river 
landing  for  a  parcel  he  expected  by  the  boat. 

It  was  now  past  Christmas,  and  the  "  Christ- 
mas snow  "  had  come,  whitening  the  ground. 
The  Colonel's  position  in  the  chaise  was  one 
calculated  to  make  a  nervous  person  uneasy. 
The  vehicle  ran  down  on  the  horses'  withers 
in  the  most  uncomfortable  way,  and  if  the 
traces  broke  —  and  they  had  several  breaks 
in  them,  mended  with  twine  —  the  Colonel 
would  be  under  the  horses'  hind  feet  before  he 
knew  it.  But  Colonel  Corbin  did  not  know 
what  it  was  to  be  afraid  of  man  or  beast,  and 
sat  back  composedly  in  the  chaise,  bracing  his 
feet  against  the  low  dashboard,  while  the  horses 
dashed  along  the  slushy  country  road.  The 
snow  does  not  last  in  Eastern  Virginia,  and 
it  only  made  the  road  wet  and  slippery  to  the 
most  unsatisfactory  degree.  But  over  the 
fields  and  woods  it  lay  soft  and  unsoiled.  The 


A    STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY  195 

afternoon  was  gray,  and  a  biting  east  wind  was 
blowing. 

The  Colonel  got  to  the  landing  in  ample 
time,  but  it  would  be  dusk  before  the  great  river 
steamboat  would  arrive.  Meanwhile,  he  went 
into  the  little  waiting-room,  with  its  red-hot 
stove,  and  conversed  amicably  with  the  wharf- 
inger, a  blacksmith,  and  two  drummers,  wait- 
ing to  take  the  boat  "up  the  bay."  It  was 
almost  dark  when  a  long,  shrill  whistle  re- 
sounded, and  everybody  jumped  up,  saying, 
"  The  boat !  "  A  truck  loaded  with  boxes  and 
freight  of  all  sorts,  and  the  drummers'  trunks, 
and  drawn  by  a  patient  mule,  was  started  down 
the  tramway  on  the  wharf  that  extended  nearly 
four  hundred  yards  into  the  river.  The  Colo- 
nel, like  most  country  gentlemen,  liked  to  see 
what  was  to  be  seen,  and  walked  out  on  the 
wharf  to  watch  the  exciting  spectacle  of  the 
boat  making  her  landing. 

The  sky  had  darkened  still  more,  and  it 
looked  as  if  more  snow  were  coming.  The 
great,  broad  salt  river,  with  its  fierce  tides 
and  foaming  like  the  ocean  that  it  was  so  near, 
was  quite  black,  except  for  the  phosphores- 
cent glare  left  in  the  steamer's  wake  as  she 


196  A    STRANGE,  SAD    COMEDY 

plowed  her  way  along,  looking  like  a  gigan- 
tic illuminated  lantern  with  lights  blazing  from 
one  end  of  her  to  the  other.  At  intervals  her 
long,  hoarse  whistle  screamed  over  the  waters, 
and  presently,  with  much  noise  and  churning, 
she  bumped  against  the  wharf  and  was  made 
fast.  Her  gangplank  was  thrown  out,  and  a 
few  passengers  in  the  humbler  walks  of  life 
stepped  off;  but,  in  a  moment,  the  captain 
himself  appeared,  escorting  a  woman  in  a  long 
fur  cloak.  The  light  from  a  lantern  on  the 
wharf  fell  directly  upon  her,  and  as  soon  as 
the  Colonel  saw  her,  he  understood  why  she 
should  have  the  captain's  escort.  She  was 
about  forty,  apparently,  and  her  abundant  dark 
hair  was  slightly  streaked  with  gray.  But 
there  was  not  a  line  or  a  wrinkle  in  her  clear, 
pale  face,  and  her  eyes  had  the  beauty  of  a 
girl  of  fifteen.  There  was  something  pecu- 
liarly elegant  in  her  whole  air  —  the  long  seal- 
skin mantle  that  enveloped  her,  the  close  black 
bonnet  that  she  wore,  her  immaculate  gloves 
and  shoes  —  Colonel  Corbin  at  once  recog- 
nized in  her  a  metropolitan. 

She  remained  talking  with  the  captain  for 
a  few  moments,  until  he  was  obliged  to  leave. 
It  took  only  a  short  while  to  discharge  the  small 


A   STRANGE,   SAD   COMEDY  197 

amount  of  freight,  and  in  five  minutes  the  boat 
had  lurched  off,  and  the  noise  of  her  churning 
wheels  and  the  myriad  lights  from  her  saloons 
were  melting  in  the  blackness  where  the  river 
and  night  sky  blent  together. 

The  stranger  looked  around  her  with  calm 
self-possession,  and  seemed  surprised  at  the 
loneliness  of  the  landscape  and  the  deserted 
look  of  things  around  the  little  waiting-room 
and  freight-house  at  the  end  of  the  wharf. 
Colonel  Corbin,  imagining  her  the  unexpect- 
edly arrived  guest  of  some  one  in  the  county, 
advanced  with  a  profound  bow,  and  taking 
off  his  hat  in  the  cutting  blast,  said : 

"  Madam,  permit  me  to  say  that  you  seem 
to  be  a  stranger  and  to  have  no  one  to  meet 
you.  I  am  Colonel  Corbin,  and  I  should  es- 
teem it  a  privilege  to  be  of  assistance  to 
you." 

"  Thank  you,"  she  answered,  turning  to  him 
and  speaking  with  a  very  French  accent,  "  I  did 
not  expect  any  one  to  meet  me,  but  I  thought 
there  would  be  a  town  —  or  a  village  at  least, 
when  I  left  the  steamer.  I  am  foreign  to  this 
country  —  I  am  French,  but  I  am  accustomed 
to  traveling." 

"  Every    word    that    you    say,    madam,    is 


198  A   STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY 

another  claim  upon  me.  A  lady,  and  alone  in 
a  strange  country  !  Pray  command  my  ser- 
vices. May  I  ask  if  you  are  a  visitor  to 
any  of  the  county  families  ? — for  in  that  event 
everything  would  be  very  much  simplified." 

"  Scarcely,"  responded  the  stranger,  with 
the  ghost  of  a  smile  upon  her  handsome  face; 
"  but  I  have  traveled  many  thousand  miles 
to  have  an  interview  with  Mr.  Richard  Ro- 
maine.  Permit  me  to  introduce  myself — I 
am  Madame  de  Fonblanque." 

The  Colonel's  face  was  a  study  as  Madame 
de  Fonblanque  continued,  calmly :  "  I  should 
like  first  to  go  to  a  hotel  —  somewhere — and 
then  I  could  arrange  to  meet  Mr.  Romaine." 

"  But,  madam,  there  is  no  hotel,  except  a 
country  tavern  at  the  Court  House,  ten  miles 
away.  My  residence,  however,  Corbin  Hall,  is 
only  four  miles  from  here  —  and  Mr.  Romaine's 
place,  Shrewsbury,  is  also  within  that  distance ; 
and  if  you  would  accept  of  my  hospitality, 
and  that  of  my  sister  and  my  granddaughter, 
I  should  be  most  happy.  I  have  here  a  chaise 
and  pair,  and  would  feel  honored  if  you  would 
accept  of  their  service  as  well  as  mine." 

Madame  de  Fonblanque  then  showed  con- 
siderable knowledge  of  human  nature :  for 


199 

she  at  once  agreed  to  trust  the  Colonel,  al- 
though she  had  never  laid  eyes  on  him  before. 

"  I  think,"  she  said,  after  a  slight  pause,"  that 
I  shall  be  compelled  to  accept  of  your  kind- 
ness as  frankly  as  you  offer  it.  I  will  say  at 
once,  that  as  I  have  come  to  demand  an  act  of 
justice  from  Mr.  Romaine,  he  may  not  make 
any  effort  toward  seeing  me  —  and  as  he  may 
do  me  that  act  of  justice,  I  must  ask  you  to 
trust  me  for  that.  But  the  sooner  I  see  him 
the  better.  If,  therefore,  you  would  drive  me 
at  once  to  his  chateau  —  house  —  I  could  in 
a  few  moments  discern  his  intentions.  The 
boat,  I  understand,  passes  here  daily  before 
the  sun  rises  —  and  I  could  leave  to-morrow 
morning." 

The  simplicity  and  directness  of  Madame  de 
Fonblanque's  language  prepossessed  the  Col- 
onel still  more  in  her  favor.  But  at  the  prop- 
osition to  go  to  Shrewsbury  he  winced  a  little. 
However,  there  was  no  help  for  it  —  he  had 
offered  to  befriend  her,  and  he  stood  unflinch- 
ingly to  his  word. 

"Then,  madam,"  said  the  Colonel,  bowing, 
"  it  shall  be  my  privilege  to  drive  you  to 
Shrewsbury,  Mr.  Romaine's  residence  —  and 
from  there  to  my  own  place,  where  my  sister 


200  A    STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY 

and  granddaughter  will  be  happy  to  entertain 
you  as  long  as  you  find  it  agreeable  to  remain 
with  us." 

"  I  thank  you  a  thousand  times,"  replied 
Madame  de  Fonblanque.  "  I  have  never  met 
with  greater  kindness,  and  you  have  the  grati- 
tude of  a  woman  and  a  stranger,  whom  you 
have  relieved  from  a  most  inconvenient  pre- 
dicament." 

The  Colonel  then  offered  her  his  arm,  and 
together  they  traversed  the  long  wharf  in  the 
descending  night,  while  a  wild  east  wind  raved 
about  them  and  made  the  black  water  seethe 
below  them.  There  was  not  much  talking  in 
the  teeth  of  such  a  wind,  but  when  Madame 
de  Fonblanque  was  seated  in  the  chaise  with 
the  lap-robes  tucked  around  her,  and  the  horses 
were  making  good  time  along  the  soggy  road, 
she  told  all  that  was  necessary  about  herself. 
She  was  the  widow  of  an  army  officer,  and 
since  her  widowhood  had  spent  much  time  in 
traveling.  She  had  come  to  this  country  to  see 
Mr.  Romaine  on  a  matter  which  she  frankly 
declared  was  chiefly  one  of  money ;  and  she 
desired  a  personal  interview  with  him  be- 
fore taking  legal  steps.  She  had  had  a  maid 
with  her,  but  the  woman,  having  found  an  un- 


A   STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY  201 

expected  opportunity  of  going  back  to  France, 
had  basely  left  her  only  the  day  before. 

"And  so,  as  I  am  a  soldier's  daughter  and 
a  soldier's  widow,"  she  said,  with  a  smile,  "  I 
thought,  'What  can  harm  one  in  this  chival- 
rous country  ?  I  will  go  alone.  I  will  take 
enough  money  with  me  '  —  I  was  careful  not  to 
take  too  much  —  'and  I  will  simply  find  out 
the  quickest  way  to  reach  Mr.  Romaine,  and 
see  him  ;  and  then  I  will  return  to  New  York, 
where  I  have  friends.' ' 

"  A  very  courageous  thing  for  a  lady  to  do, 
madam,"  replied  the  Colonel,  gallantly.  "  But 
I  think  you  will  find,  particularly  in  the  State 
of  Virginia,  that  a  woman's  weakness  is  her 
strength.  Every  Virginia  gentleman  is  the 
protector  of  a  defenseless  woman." 

Madame  de  Fonblanque  smiled  prettily, 
showing  very  white  teeth.  She  did  not  quite 
understand  the  Colonel's  allusion  to  Virginia 
gentlemen  especially,  but  having  great  tact, 
she  appeared  to  comprehend  it  perfectly. 

"  But  do  not  think  for  a  moment,"  she  said, 
"that  I  would  bestow  my  confidence  upon  all 
men  as  I  have  bestowed  it  on  you.  The  su- 
preme honesty  of  your  character  was  perfectly 
visible  to  me  the  instant  you  addressed  me. 


202  A    STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY 

I  have  seen  much  of  the  world,  and  I  am  no 
bad  reader  of  character,  and  I  trusted  you 
from  the  moment  I  saw  you." 

The  Colonel  took  off  his  hat,  and  bowed  so 
low  that  the  chaise,  at  that  moment  giving  a 
lurch,  nearly  pitched  him  head  foremost  under 
his  horses'  heels.  Madame  de  Fonblanque 
uttered  a  little  scream. 

"  I  always  was  so  nervous  about  horses," 
she  said;  "although  both  my  father  and  my 
husband  were  in  the  Lancers,  they  never 
could  induce  me  to  ride." 

Then  she  began  asking  some  questions 
about  Mr.  Romaine,  which  showed  that  she 
had  a  very  clear  knowledge  of  his  character. 

"  And  is  the  English  mees  there  still  ?  "  she 
inquired,  with  a  slight  smile. 

"  Yes ;  but  I  understand  that  she  has  been 
desirous  to  leave  for  some  time,"  answered 
the  Colonel. 

"  Mr.  Romaine  is  a  very  extraordinary 
man,"  continued  Madame  de  Fonblanque,  after 
a  pause.  "  I  have  known  him  for  a  long  time, 
and  I  do  not  think  in  all  these  years  I  have 
ever  known  him  to  do  one  thing  in  the  usual 
manner." 

"  I  have  known  him,  madam,  many  more 


A    STRANGE,  SAD    COMEDY  203 

years  than  you  have — we  were  boys  together 
sixty  years  ago  —  and  I  must  say  your  esti- 
mate of  him  is  correct.  Yet  Romaine  is  not 
without  his  virtues." 

"  Quite  true,"  replied  Madame  de  Fon- 
blanque,  composedly.  "  He  can  be  the  most 
generous  of  men— but  I  do  not  think  he 
knows  what  justice  is." 

"  Precisely — precisely,  madam.  After  Ro- 
maine has  spoiled  a  life,  or  has  used  the 
power  of  his  money  most  remorselessly,  he 
will  then  turn  around  and  do  the  most  gener- 
ous and  princely  thing  in  the  world.  But  I 
should  not  like  to  be  in  his  power." 

"  Nor  I,"  said  Madame  de  Fonblanque,  in 
a  low  voice. 

"At  present,"  continued  the  Colonel,  "the 
relations  between  us  are  somewhat  strained. 
I  am  much  vexed  with  him,  and  have  shown 
it.  But  Romaine,  as  you  say,  being  totally 
unlike  any  created  being,  sees  fit  to  ignore  it, 
and  actually  rides  over  and  borrows  my  man 
David — a  worthy  negro,  of  very  inferior  in- 
tellect, though — to  shave  him!" 

It  did  not  take  long  to  make  the  four  miles 
to  Shrewsbury,  and  presently  they  dashed  up 
to  the  door  of  the  large,  brightly  lighted 


204  A    STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY 

house,  and  the  Colonel  rapped  smartly  on  the 
door.  There  was  a  bell — an  innovation  in- 
troduced by  Mr.  Romaine — but  Colonel  Cor- 
bin  disdained  to  use  so  modern  and  unheard- 
of  an  appliance. 

Dodson  opened  the  door,  and  a  flood  of 
light  from  the  fine  old-fashioned  entrance  hall 
poured  out  into  the  night.  Colonel  Corbin, 
according  to  the  Virginia  custom,  walked  in, 
escorting  Madame  de  Fonblanque,  without 
asking  if  any  one  was  home — somebody  was 
certain  to  be  at  home  and  delighted  to  see 
visitors. 

Dodson  was  about  to  usher  them  politely 
in  the  drawing-room,  when  Bridge  suddenly 
appeared.  To  say  that  his  hair  stood  on  end 
when  he  caught  sight  of  Madame  de  Fori- 
blanque  is  hardly  putting  it  strong  enough. 
His  jaw  dropped,  and  his  eyes  nearly  popped 
out  of  his  head.  He  recovered  himself  and 
ran  and  seized  the  knob  of  the  drawing-room 
door. 

"  Please,"  he  said,  in  a  very  positive  tone, 
"  Mr.  Romaine  his  n't  at  'ome." 

"  How  do  you  know  that,  sir?  "  sternly  de- 
manded the  Colonel,  advancing  on  Bridge, 
who  still  held  on  to  the  door-knob. 


A   STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY  205 

"Because — because — I  knows  he  ain't — 
to — that — 'ere — pusson." 

The  Colonel,  who  was  tall  and  strong, 
caught  Bridge  by  the  coat  collar,  and,  with 
clenched  teeth,  shook  him  up  and  down  as  a 
terrier  shakes  a  rat. 

"  You  insolent  scoundrel,"  he  said,  in  a 
fierce  basso,  "  I  have  a  great  mind  to  throw 
you  out  of  the  door.  Go  this  instant  and  tell 
your  master  that  Madame  de  Fonblanque  and 
Colonel  Corbin  are  here." 

Bridge,  nearly  frightened  out  of  his  life, 
and  black  in  the  face,  was  glad  to  escape. 
He  made  his  way  half  across  the  hall  to  Mr. 
Romaine's  study  door,  and  then  hesitated. 
Afraid  as  he  was  of  the  Colonel,  the  idea  of 
facing  Mr.  Romaine  with  such  a  message  was 
still  more  terrifying.  The  Colonel  helped  him 
to  make  up  his  mind  by  advancing  and  giving 
him  a  well-directed  kick  on  the  shins  which 
nearly  threw  him  into  Mr.  Romaine's  arms,  as 
that  individual  unexpectedly  opened  the  door. 

Then  there  was  a  pause. 

Madame  de  Fonblanque  had  remained  a 
silent  spectator  of  the  whole  scene,  wearing  a 
look  of  calm  amusement.  As  soon  as  Mr. 
Romaine  caught  sight  of  her,  his  pale  face 


206  A    STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY 

grew  still  more  ashy,  and  his  inscrutable  black 
eyes  blazed  with  a  still  more  somber  splendor. 
Colonel  Corbin,  quite  unmoved  by  his  little 
rencontre  with  "  that  infernal  flunkey,"  as  he 
described  the  worthy  Bridge  afterward,  ad- 
vanced and  said,  with  his  most  magnificent 
air : 

"Allow  me,  Romaine,  to  announce  a  lady 
with  whom  I  imagine  you  to  have  the  honor 
of  a  previous  acquaintance  —  Madame  de 
Fonblanque." 

"The  devil  I  have!"  replied  Mr.  Romaine. 


X 


,OLONEL  CORBIN  could  not  kick 
his  friend  Romaine  as  he  had  done 
poor  Bridge — but  he  would  have 
dearly  liked  to  at  that  moment. 

Mr.  Romaine,  after  glaring  at  Madame  de 
Fonblanque,  without  the  slightest  greeting, 
turned  to  the  Colonel. 

"  Corbin,"  he  said,  "you  always  were  and 
always  will  be  the  most  unsophisticated,  im- 
practical creature  God  ever  made.  The  idea 
of  your  taking  up  with  this  brazen  adven- 
turess and  bringing  her  to  my  house!" 

"  Hear  me,  sir,"  responded  the  Colonel;  "  if 
you  utter  another  disparaging  word  respect- 
ing this  lady,  I  will  forget  your  age  and  in- 
firmities, and  give  you  the  most  genteel  wal- 
loping you  ever  had  in  your  life." 

"  It  will  be  the  first  time  you  ever  forgot 
my  age  and  infirmities,"  coolly  answered  Mr. 

207 


208  A    STRANGE,   SAD   COMEDY 

Romaine;  and  then  turning  to  Madame  de 
Fonblanque,  he  said  : 

"  What  do  you  want  of  me  ?  " 

"  You  know  very  well  what  I  wanLof  you." 

"  You  will  never  get  it." 

"  I  shall  try,  nevertheless.  I  wish  to  see 
you  in  private." 

"Madam,"  said  the  Colonel,  "if  you  desire 
the  protection  of  my  presence,  you  shall  have 
it.  I  have  not  the  slightest  regard  for  this — 
person — who  so  maligned  you;  and  you  see 
that  physically  I  am  still  worth  a  good  deal." 

"  You  are  worth  a  good  deal  in  every 
way,"  replied  Madame  de  Fonblanque  warmly. 
"Still,  I  will  see  Mr.  Romaine  alone;  and 
when  the  interview  is  over  I  will  again  throw 
myself  upon  your  protection." 

Mr.  Romaine  turned  and  led  the  way  to 
his  library,  Madame  de  Fonblanque  following 
him.  He  closed  the  door,  and  stood  waiting 
for  her  to  speak.  He  was  in  the  greatest  rage 
of  his  life,  but  he  did  not  in  the  least  lose  his 
self-possession. 

"  Well  ?  "  he  said,  his  face  blazing  with  the 
intensity  of  his  anger. 

"  One  hundred  thousand  francs,"  responded 
Madame  de  Fonblanque,  sweetly. 


A   STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY  209 

They  were  standing  in  the  middle  of  the 
floor,  the  soft  light  of  the  fire  and  of  a  great 
lamp  on  the  table  falling  upon  them. 

"  You  have  raised  your  price  since  we  last 
met." 

"  Yes.  I  reckoned  up  the  interest  and  added 
it.  Besides,  I  really  think  a  woman  who  was 
disappointed  in  being  made  your  wife  needs 
a  hundred  thousand  francs  to  console  her  for 
your  loss.  Now,  most  men  would  not  be 
worth  more  than  thirty  or  forty  thousand." 

Madame  de  Fonblanque  spoke  quite  cheer- 
fully and  even  gaily.  She  tapped  her  pocket 
gracefully. 

"  Here  I  have  those  letters  of  yours.  They 
never  leave  me — particularly  the  one  propos- 
ing marriage,  and  the  half  dozen  in  which  you 
call  me  your  dearest  Athanaise  and  reproach 
me  bitterly  for  not  loving  you  enough.  Just 
imagine  the  hurricane  of  amusement  they 
would  cause  if  read  out  in  court  with  proper 
elocutionary  effect." 

Madame  de  Fonblanque  laughed,  and  Mr. 
Romaine  positively  blushed. 

"What  an  infernal,  infernal  ass  I  was!" 

"Yes,  I  thought  so,  too,"  responded  the 
pretty  and  sprightly  Frenchwoman — "  I  have 
14 


210  A    STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY 

often  noticed  that  people  who  can  make  fools 
of  others,  invariably,  at  some  time  in  their 
lives,  make  fools  of  themselves." 

"  I  did,"  answered  Mr.  Romaine,  senten- 
tiously.  "  But  I  tell  you,  once  for  all,  not  a 
penny  will  I  pay." 

"Ah,  my  dear  M.  Romaine,  that  is  not  for 
you  to  say.  These  breach-of-promise  cases 
sometimes  turn  out  very  badly  for  the  gentle- 
men. I  can  so  easily  prove  my  position,  my 
respectability — the  way  you  pursued  me  from 
London  to  Brighton,  from  Brighton  to  Folke- 
stone, from  Folkestone  to  Eastbourne — and 
these  invaluable  and  delightful  letters.  It 
will  be  a  cause  celebre — that  you  may  depend 
upon.  And  what  a  figure  you  will  cut !  The 
New  York  papers  will  have  a  column  a  day — 
the  London  papers  two  columns.  By  the 
way,  I  hear  you  have  leased  a  fine  house  at 
Prince's  Gate  for  the  season.  You  will  have 
to  give  up  that  lease,  my  friend — you  will  not 
dare  to  show  your  face  in  London  this  season, 
M.  Romaine." 

All  this  time  Madame  de  Fonblanque  had 
been  laughing,  as  if  it  were  a  very  good  joke  ; 
but  she  now  became  serious. 

"  There  is  a  tragic  side  to  it,"  she  continued, 


A   STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY  211 

going  closer  to  Mr.  Romaine,  and  looking  at 
him  in  a  threatening  way.  "  I  know  all  about 
that  visit  to  Dr.  Chambers.  No  matter  how 
I  found  it  out — I  know  he  passed  sentence  of 
death  on  you ;  and  while  this  good,  amiable 
Chessingham  is  doctoring  you  for  all  sorts  of 
imaginary  aches  and  pains,  you  have  one  con- 
stant ache  and  pain  that  he  does  not  suspect, 
because  you  have  so  carefully  concealed  it 
from  him — and  the  slightest  annoyance  or 
chagrin  may  be  fatal  to  you.  I  know  that  you 
have  tried  to  persuade  the  good  Chessingham 
that  you  have  every  disease  in  the  calendar 
of  diseases — except  the  one  that  is  killing 
you." 

Mr.  Romaine  walked  rather  unsteadily  to  a 
chair  and  sat  down,  burying  his  face  in  his 
hands.  Madame  de  Fonblanque,  after  a  mo- 
ment, felt  an  impulse  of  pity  toward  him.  She 
went  and  touched  him  lightly. 

"You  called  me  a  brazen  adventuress  just 
now — and  I  acknowledge  that  I  am  not  en- 
gaged in  a  very  high  business,  trying  to  make 
you  pay  me  for  not  keeping  your  word.  But 
I  feel  sorry  for  you  now.  I  dislike  to  witness 
your  unhappiness.  Say  you  will  pay  me,  and 
let  me  go." 


212  A    STRANGE,  SAD    COMEDY 

"  Never,"  answered  Mr.  Romaine,  looking 
up,  with  an  unquenchable  determination  in  his 
eyes. 

"Very  well,  then,"  answered  Madame  de 
Fonblanque,  quietly;  "you  know  I  am  a  very 
determined  woman.  I  came  here  to  see  for 
myself  what  your  condition  is.  I  shall  go 
away  to  instruct  my  lawyers  to  bring  suit 
against  you  immediately.  I  may  not  get  one 
hundred  thousand  francs  in  money — but  I 
will  get  a  hundred  thousand  francs'  worth  of 
revenge." 

"  It  seems  to  me,"  presently  said  Mr.  Ro- 
maine, with  a  cynical  smile  on  his  face,  "  your 
revenge  will  be  two-edged." 

"  So  is  nearly  all  revenge.  It  's  a  very  ig- 
noble thing  to  avenge  one's  self — few  people 
can  do  it  without  sharing  in  the  ignominy. 
But  I  weighed  the  matter  well  before  I  made 
up  my  mind.  French  newspapers  take  but 
little  notice  of  what  goes  on  outside  of  Paris. 
I  have  influence  enough  to  silence  those  that 
would  say  anything  about  it — and  I  care  not 
a  sou  for  anybody  or  anything  in  this  country 
or  England.  I  shall  go  back  to  Paris  and  say 
it  was  another  Madame  de  Fonblanque." 

Madame  de  Fonblanque,  following  Mr.  Ro- 


A   STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY  213 

maine's  example,  seated  herself,  and  opened 
the  long,  rich  cloak  of  fur  she  wore.  She  was 
certainly  very  handsome,  particularly  when 
the  heat  of  the  room  brought  a  slight  flush  to 
her  clear  cheeks. 

"  It  is  strange  to  me  that  a  woman  of  your 
education  and  standing  should  engage  in  this 
scheme  of  yours,"  after  a  while  said  Mr. 
Romaine. 

"  One  hundred  thousand  francs,"  responded 
Madame  de  Fonblanque. 

"  You  might  have  married  well  a  dozen 
times  if  you  had  played  your  cards  right,"  he 
continued. 

''One  hundred  thousand  francs,"  again  said 
Madame  de  Fonblanque. 

"What  are  your  plans  of  campaign,  may  I 
ask  ? " 

"  To  get  one  hundred  thousand  francs  from 
you." 

"That  ridiculous  old  blunderbuss,  Corbin ! 
I  suppose  he  has  invited  you  to  take  up  your 
quarters  at  Corbin  Hall,  indefinitely,  without 
knowing  any  more  about  you  than  he  does  of 
the  man  in  the  moon." 

"He  has  —  the  dear,  innocent  old  gentle- 
man—  and  I  shall  stay  until  I  get  my  one 


214  A   STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY 

hundred  thousand  francs.  But  he  shall  not 
regret  it.  I  know  how  to  appreciate  kind- 
ness. I  have  met  with  so  little.  The  man  I 
loved  —  my  husband  —  squandered  my  dot, 
which  I  gave  him,  and  it  is  on  account  of  my 
rash  fondness  for  one  man  that  it  is  now  ab- 
solutely necessary  for  me  to  have  some  money 
from  another ;  and  I  intend  to  make  every 
effort  to  get  a  hundred  thousand  francs  from 
you." 

Mr.  Romaine  remained  silent  for  a  few 
minutes,  considering  a  coup.  Then  his  usual 
sly  smile  appeared  upon  his  countenance. 
When  he  spoke  his  voice  had  more  than  its 
usual  velvety  softness. 

"Your  efforts,  Madame  de  Fonblanque, 
will  not  be  necessary ;  for  I  hereby  declare  to 
you  my  perfect  willingness  to  marry  you,  and 
I  shall  put  it  in  writing." 

It  was  now  Madame  de  Fonblanque's  turn 
to  be  disconcerted.  She  fell  back  in  her  chair 
and  gazed  dumbly  at  Mr.  Romaine.  Marry 
him !  And  as  she  had  laughed  while  Mr. 
Romaine  had  suffered,  now  he  laughed  wick- 
edly while  she  literally  cowered  at  the  pros- 
pect presented  to  her. 

"And  as  regards  my  sudden  and  speedy 


A   STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY  215 

death,  which  you  seem  to  anticipate,  it  could 
not  benefit  you  "  -  he  leaned  over  and  said 
something  to  her  in  a  low  tone,  which  caused 
Madame  de  Fonblanque  to  start — "so  that 
you  will  have  the  satisfaction  of  enjoying  my 
money  —  such  as  I  may  choose  to  give  you — 
as  long  as  I  live.  But  I  .warn  you  —  I  am 
not  an  easy  man  to  live  with,  nor  would  the 
circumstances  of  our  marriage  render  me  more 
so.  Ask  Chessingham  if  I  am  easy  to  live 
with,  and  he  will  tell  you  that  I  am  not,  even 
at  my  best.  It  would  not  surprise  me,  in  case 
our  marriage  took  place,  if  you  were  to  wish 
yourself  free  again.  You  say  you  desire  re- 
venge. So  would  I  —  and  I  would  take  it." 

Madame  de  Fonblanque  grew  steadily  paler 
as  Mr.  Romaine  spoke.  She  knew  well 
enough  the  purgatory  he  was  offering  her. 
To  marry  him !  Such  an  idea  had  never 
dawned  upon  her.  The  conviction  of  his  in- 
sincerity had  caused  her  coyness  in  the  first 
instance  which  had  stimulated  Mr.  Romaine 
so  much.  It  had  really  looked,  in  the  begin- 
ning, as  if  he  would  not  succeed  in  the  least 
in  making  a  fool  of  this  pretty  French  widow. 
But  he  had  finally  succeeded  at  the  cost  of 
making  a  fool  of  himself.  However,  it  was 


216  A   STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY 

now  his  turn  to  score  —  because  it  was  plain 
that  Madame  de  Fonblanque  was  anything 
but  enraptured  at  the  notion  of  marrying  him. 

She  caught  sight  of  Mr.  Romaine's  black 
eyes  dancing  in  enjoyment  of  her  predicament. 
She  rose  and  drew  her  fur  cloak  around  her. 

"  I  will  think  it  over,  Mr.  Romaine,"  she 
said,  calmly. 

"  Pray  do,"  responded  Mr.  Romaine ;  "  and 
I  will  write  you  a  letter  to-morrow  morning, 
making  a  specific  offer  to  fulfil  my  promise, 
which  will  make  those  cherished  letters  of 
yours  worth  considerably  less  than  the  paper 
they  are  written  on  —  and  what  a  honeymoon 
we  will  have  !  " 

At  this,  Madame  de  Fonblanque  positively 
shuddered,  but  she  held  her  head  up  bravely 
as  Mr.  Romaine  opened  the  door  politely  for 
her,  and  they  discovered  Colonel  Corbin 
stalking  up  and  down  the  hall  alone. 

"  Corbin,"  said  Mr.  Romaine,  blandly, 
"Madame  de  Fonblanque  and  I  have  reached 
a  perfectly  satisfactory  agreement." 

"  Sir,"  replied  the  Colonel,  glowering  with 
wrath,  "  it  must  also  be  made  satisfactory  to 
me.  When  I  bring  a  lady  to  a  house,  she  is 
under  my  protection ;  and  when  she  has  the 


A   STRANGE,  SAD    COMEDY  217 

term  '  brazen  adventuress '  applied  to  her, 
simply  because  she  has  come  to  demand  a 
mere  act  of  justice  —  and  I  know  this  to  be  a 
fact,  because  she  has  so  informed  me  —  I  must 
insist  upon  an  apology  from  the  person  apply- 
ing that  term." 

"  Very  well,  then,"  said  Mr.  Romaine,  debo- 
nair and  smiling.  "  I  apologize.  Madame  de 
Fonblanque  is  not  a  brazen  adventuress  —  she 
is  merely  a  lady  of  great  enterprise  and  assur- 
ance, and  I  wish  you  joy  of  her  acquain- 
tance." 

In  Madame  de  Fonblanque's  breast  there 
sprang  up  that  desire  that  is  never  wholly 
smothered  in  any  human  being  —  to  appear 
well  in  the  presence  of  a  person  she  respected. 
She  did  sincerely  respect  Colonel  Corbin,  who 
had  befriended  her  on  that  risky  expedition, 
and  it  cut  her  to  the  heart  to  be  insulted  be- 
fore him.  Her  eyes  filled  with  tears,  and  she 
turned  to  him  with  trembling  lips. 

"  Do  not  mind  what  he  says.  He  hates  me 
because  he  has  injured  me,  and  keeps  me  out 
of  money  that  he  ought  to  pay  me." 

"  I  do  not  mind  him  in  the  least,  madam," 
replied  the  Colonel,  suavely.  "  Mr.  Romaine 
knows  perfectly  well  my  opinion  of  him.  He 


218  A   STRANGE,  SAD    COMEDY 

keeps  you  out  of  money  he  owes  you,  and  in- 
sists upon  forcing  on  my  granddaughter  money 
that  she  does  not  want,  and  which  will  involve 
her  in  endless  trouble.  I  think  that  is  quite 
characteristic  of  Romaine.  Let  us  now  leave 
this  inhospitable  house." 

Madame  de  Fonblanque  took  the  arm  the 
Colonel  offered  her,  and  walked  out  of  the 
hall  without  noticing  Mr.  Romaine's  courteous 
bow. 

The  proposition  made  to  Madame  de  Fon- 
blanque was  truly  startling.  Almost  anything 
on  earth  was  better  than  marrying  him  —  and 
what  he  had  whispered  to  her  proved  that  she 
could  not  profit  one  penny  by  his  death.  She 
would  gladly  have  foregone  that  offer  on  paper 
for  some  other  letters  she  had  in  which  he  flatly 
refused  to  keep  his  word,  and  which  she  had 
held  over  him  in  terrorem.  She  could  not  de- 
termine in  a  moment  what  to  do,  but  she  was 
convinced  that  she  could  not  see  Mr.  Romaine 
again,  and  the  matter  would  have  to  be  settled 
by  correspondence.  And  then  she  felt  the 
sooner  she  got  away  from  this  place  where  she 
had  been  checkmated  the  better.  When  they 
were  traveling  fast  through  the  murky  night 
toward  Corbin  Hall,  she  broached  the  subject 


A   STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY  219 

at  once  of  her  return  in  the  morning.  The 
Colonel  declared  it  depended  upon  the  weather, 
which  puzzled  Madame  de  Fonblanque  very 
much  until  it  was  explained  to  her  that  it  was  a 
question  of  weather  whether  the  boat  came  or 
not.  Sometimes,  in  that  climate,  the  river  froze 
over,  and  then  the  river  steamers  stopped  run- 
ning until  there  was  a  thaw — for  ice-boats 
were  unknown  in  that  region.  It  was  very 
cold,  and  getting  colder,  and  the  Colonel  was 
of  the  opinion  that  a  freeze  was  upon  them, 
and  no  boat  could  get  down  the  river  that 
night 

When  they  got  to  Corbin  Hall,  Madame  de 
Fonblanque  was  extremely  nervous  about  the 
greeting  she  would  get  from  the  Colonel's 
womenkind — but  it  was  as  cordial  and  unsus- 
picious as  his  had  been.  The  Colonel  ex- 
plained that  Madame  de  Fonblanque  had  busi- 
ness with  Mr.  Romaine,  who  had  treated  her 
like  —  Mr.  Romaine ;  and  Letty,  as  soon  as 
she  found  somebody  with  a  community  of  pre- 
judice against  the  master  of  Shrewsbury,  felt 
much  drawn  toward  her.  There  was  no  doubt 
that  Madame  de  Fonblanque  was  a  lady ;  and 
in  the  innocent  and  unworldly  lives  of  the  ladies 
at  Corbin  Hall,  the  desperate  shifts  and  devices 


220  A   STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY 

to  get  money  of  people  with  adventurous 
tendencies  were  altogether  unknown  and  un- 
suspected. Besides,  people  from  a  foreign 
country  were  very  great  novelties  to  them  ; 
and  Letty  seated  herself,  after  tea,  to  hear  all 
about  that  marvelous  world  beyond  the  sea. 
The  Colonel  still  talked  about  his  visit  to  Eu- 
rope in  1835,  and  Paris  in  the  days  of  the  Cit- 
izen King,  and  imagined  that  everything  had 
remained  unchanged  since  then.  Madame 
de  Fonblanque  was  a  stout  Monarchist,  as 
most  French  people  of  dubious  antecedents 
profess  to  be,  and  gave  out  with  much  tact 
that,  although  only  the  widow  of  a  poor 
officer  in  the  Lancers,  she  was  on  intimate 
terms  with  all  the  Faubourg  St.  Germains. 
As  she  frankly  admitted  her  modest  means, 
there  was  no  hint  of  braggadocio  in  anything 
she  said  in  her  fluent  French-English.  She 
had  great  curiosity  about  Mr.  Romaine,  and 
was  well  up  in  all  his  adventures  since  he  had 
been  in  America.  She  spoke  of  him  so  coolly 
and  critically  that  it  never  dawned  upon  her 
listeners  that  the  difficulties  between  them 
were  not  of  the  usual  business  kind. 

"  As  for  the  English  mees,"  she  said,  calmly, 
"  I  would  say  to  her,  *  Go  home,  my  pretty 


A    STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY  221 

demoiselle;  don't  waste  your  time  on  that — 
that  aged  crocodile.'  The  English,  you  know, 
have  no  sentiment.  They  call  us  unfeeling 
because  French  parents  select  a  suitable  man 
for  an  innocent  young  daughter  to  marry,  and 
bid  her  feel  for  him  all  the  tenderness  possi- 
ble. But  those  calculating  English  meeses 
would  marry  old  Scaramouch  himself  if  he 
had  money  enough." 

The  Colonel  did  not  like  to  hear  his  favor- 
ite nation  abused,  and  rather  squirmed  under 
this ;  but  he  reflected  that  Madame  de  Fon- 
blanque's  remarks  were  due,  no  doubt,  to  the 
traditional  jealousy  between  the  French  and 
the  English. 

Madame  de  Fonblanque  gave  the  straight- 
est  possible  account  of  herself,  including  the 
desertion  of  her  maid  the  day  before. 

"  I  thought,  with  my  trusty  Suzanne,  I  could 
face  anything.  I  did  not  imagine  I  could  go 
anywhere  in  this  part  of  America  that  I  would 
not  find  hotels,  railroads,  telegraph  offices — " 

"  There  is  one  tavern  in  the  county,  and 
that  a  very  poor  one,  six  miles  away —  and  not 
a  line  of  telegraph  wire  or  railway  nearer  than 
two  counties  off,"  explained  Letty,  smiling. 

Madame  de  Fonblanque  clapped  her  hands. 


222  A   STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY 

"  How  delicious  !  I  shall  tell  this  in  France. 
It  is  like  some  of  our  retired  places  in  the 
provinces,  where  the  government  has  erected 
telegraph  lines,  but  the  people  do  not  know 
exactly  what  they  are  meant  for !  And  when 
that  wretched  Suzanne  left  me,  I  asked  at  once 
for  the  French  consul  —  but  I  found  there  was 
none  in  town.  All  of  my  adventures  here  have 
been  novel  —  and  as  I  have  met  with  such  very 
great  kindness,  I  shall  always  regard  them  as 
amusing." 

She  showed  no  disposition  to  trespass  on 
the  hospitality  so  generously  offered  her,  and 
looked  out  of  the  window  anxiously  when  they 
rose  to  go  to  their  rooms.  But  it  had  begun 
snowing  early  in  the  evening,  and  the  ground 
was  now  perfectly  white. 

"  No  boat  to-morrow,  madam,"  said  the 
Colonel.  "  You  will,  I  am  sure,  be  forced  to 
content  yourself  at  Corbin  Hall  for  some  days 
yet." 

"  I  content  myself  perfectly,"  replied  Ma- 
dame de  Fonblanque,  with  ready  grace;  "but 
one  must  be  careful  not  to  take  advantage  of 
so  much  generosity  as  yours." 

When  she  was  alone  in  the  same  old-fash- 
ioned bedroom  that  Farebrother  had  occupied, 


A    STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY  223 

enjoying,  as  he  had  done,  the  sparkling  wood 
fire,  she  reflected  gratefully  upon  the  goodness 
of  these  refined  and  simple-minded  people  — 
but  she  also  reflected  with  much  bitterness 
upon  the  extremely  slim  prospect  of  her  getting 
any  money  from  Mr.  Romaine.  She  had  fully 
counted  upon  his  dread  of  ridicule,  his  fear  of 
publicity,  to  induce  him  to  hand  over  a  con- 
siderable sum  of  money ;  but  she  had  not  in 
the  least  counted  upon  what  she  considered 
his  truly  diabolical  offer  to  come  up  to  his 
word.  To  marry  Mr.  Romaine !  She  could 
have  brought  herself  to  it,  reflecting  that  he 
could  not  live  forever ;  but  those  few  words  he 
whispered  to  her  showed  her  that  it  was  out 
of  her  power  to  get  any  money  at  his  death. 
She  believed  what  he  told  her  —  it  was  so 
thoroughly  characteristic  of  him  —  and  she 
would  by  no  means  risk  the  horrors  of  marry- 
ing this  embodied  whim  with  that  probability 
hanging  over  her.  She  turned  it  over  and 
over  in  her  mind,  wearily,  until  past  midnight, 
when  she  tossed  to  and  fro  until  the  gray  dawn 
shone  upon  the  snow-covered  world. 

But  Mr.  Romaine  suffered  from  more  than 
sleeplessness  that  night.  The  Chessinghams 
guessed  from  the  accounts  given  by  the  ser- 


224  A    STRANGE,  SAD    COMEDY 

vants  of  the  strange  visitor  that  Madame  de 
Fonblanque  had  turned  up  miraculously  with 
Colonel  Corbin,  and  after  a  short  interview  with 
Mr.  Romaine  had  disappeared.  They  knew 
all  about  the  old  report  that  Mr.  Romaine  had 
been  very  marked  in  his  attentions  at  one  time 
to  the  pretty  widow,  and  Chessingham  shrewd- 
ly guessed  very  near  the  truth  concerning  her 
visit,  which  truth  convulsed  him  with  laughter. 

"It  is  the  most  absurd  thing,"  he  said  to  his 
wife  and  Ethel  May  wood,  in  their  own  sitting 
room  that  night.  "  No  doubt  the  old  fellow 
has  some  entanglement  with  her,  and  finding 
widows  a  little  more  difficult  to  impose  upon 
than  guileless  maidens,  he  's  been  trapped  in 
some  way." 

"And  serves  him  right,"  said  Mrs.  Chess- 
ingham, with  energy.  "  I  know  he  's  kind  to 
us,  Reggie  —  but  —  was  there  ever  such  an- 
other man  as  Mr.  Romaine,  do  you  think  ?  " 

"  The  Lord  be  praised,  no,"  answered 
Chessingham.  "  And  he  is  not  only  mentally 
and  morally  different  from  any  man  I  ever 
saw,  but  physically,  too.  I  swear,  after  having 
been  his  doctor  for  two  years,  I  don't  know 
his  constitution  yet.  He  will  describe  to  me 
the  most  contradictory  symptoms.  He  will 


A   STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY  225 

profess  to  take  a  prescription  and  apparently 
it  will  have  just  the  opposite  effect  from  that 
intended.  Sometimes  I  have  asked  myself  if 
he  has  not,  all  the  time,  some  disease  that  he 
rigorously  conceals  from  me,  and  he  simply 
uses  these  subterfuges  to  deceive  me." 

"Anything  is  possible  with  Mr.  Romaine," 
said  Ethel  quietly.  "And  yet- — he  is  the 
most  generous  of  men.  Our  own  father  was 
not  half  so  free  with  his  money  to  us  as  Mr. 
Romaine  is.  And  he  seems  to  shrink  from 
the  least  acknowledgment  of  it.  How  many 
men,  clo  you  think,  would  allow  a  doctor  to 
carry  his  wife  and  sister-in-law  around  with 
him  as  he  does,  and  do  everything  for  us,  as  if 
we  were  the  most  valued  friends  and  guests?" 

"  Oh,  Romaine  is  n't  a  bad  man,  so  much  as 
a  perverse  one,"  replied  Chessingham,  lightly, 
"and  he  is  a  tremendously  interesting  one." 

At  that  very  moment,  Mr.  Romaine  was  in 
the  condition  that  any  man  but  himself  would 
have  called  for  a  doctor  —  but  not  for  worlds 
would  he  have  allowed  Chessingham  to  see 
him  then.  He  understood  his  own  case  per- 
fectly —  and  the  one  human  being  near  him 
that  was  in  his  confidence  was  Bridge. 

The  evening  was  a  very  unhappy  one  for 


226  A    STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY 

Mr.  Romaine  —  the  more  so  that  what  the 
great  specialist  he  had  consulted  had  predicted 
was  actually  happening.  Being  disturbed  in 
mind,  he  was  becoming  ill  in  body.  How  on 
earth  had  that  cruel  French  woman  found 
out  about  Dr.  Chambers?  So  Mr.  Romaine 
thought,  sitting  in  his  library  chair,  suffering 
acutely.  Dr.  Chessingham  offered  to  come 
in  and  read  to  him,  to  play  ecarte  with  him — 
but  it  occurred  to  Mr.  Romaine  that  perhaps 
a  visit  to  the  Chessinghams'  part  of  the  house 
might  divert  his  spirits  and  take  his  mind  off 
the  torturing  subject  of  Madame  de  Fon- 
blanque.  He  took  Bridge's  arm  and  tottered 
off  to  the  Chessinghams'  sitting-room.  But 
the  instant  he  entered  the  door  his  indomitable 
spirit  asserted  itself.  He  stood  upright,  walked 
steadily,  and  even  forced  a  smile  to  his  lips. 
Mrs.  Chessingham  and  Ethel  were  at  their 
everlasting  fancy  work,  of  which  Mr.  Romaine 
had  never  seen  a  completed  specimen.  Ethel 
rose  and  placed  a  chair  for  him  —  which,  as 
he  was  old  and  infirm  and  needed  it,  nettled 
him  extremely. 

"  Pray,  my  dear  Miss  Maywood,  don't 
trouble  yourself.  I  do  not  yet  require  the 
kind  coddling  you  would  bestow  upon  me." 


A   STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY  227 

Ethel,  being  an  amiable  and  patient  crea- 
ture, took  this  with  a  smile. 

"I  am  looking  forward  with  great  plea- 
sure," said  Mr.  Romaine,  after  having  seated 
himself  in  a  straight-backed  chair,  while  he 
yearned  for  an  easy  one,  "  to  the  season  in 
London.  I  have  had  my  eye  on  that  house 
in  Prince's  Gate  for  several  years,  and,  of 
course,  feel  pleased  to  have  it.  Being  an  old- 
fashioned  man,  I  have  kept  pretty  closely  to 
the  localities  which  were  modish  when  I  was 
a  young  attache  some  years  since  —  such  as 
Belgravia,  Grosvenor,  and  Lowndes  Squares, 
and  all  those  places.  But  there  is  some- 
thing very  attractive  about  the  new  Ken- 
sington— and  I  have  intended  for  some  years 
to  take  a  house  in  that  part  of  town  for  a 
season  —  and  this  one  particularly  struck  my 
fancy." 

"It  is  very  handsome  —  but  very  expen- 
sive," said  Mrs.  Chessingham. 

"  Most  handsome  things  are  expensive,  dear 
madam,  but  this  house  is  reasonable,  consid- 
ering its  charm,  and  I  hope  that  you  as  well  as 
your  sister  will  enjoy  some  of  its  pleasures 
with  me." 

Both  young  women  smiled  —  it  .would  be 


228  A    STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY 

nice  to  have  the  run  of  the  house  at  Prince's 
Gate  —  and  after  going  through  with  a  win- 
ter in  the  country,  and  in  Virginia,  too,  they 
thought  they  had  earned  it. 

"  Heretofore,"  continued  Mr.  Romaine, 
stroking  his  white  mustache  with  his  delicate 
hand,  "  while  I  have  been  fond  of  entertaining, 
it  has  always  been  of  a  sedate  kind  —  chiefly 
dinners.  But  last  year  I  was  beguiled  into 
promising  my  young  friend,  Lady  Gwendolen 
Beauclerc,  a  ball,  if  I  could  get  a  house  with 
a  ball-room  —  and  a  few  days  ago  I  received 
a  very  pretty  reminder  of  my  promise,  in  the 
shape  of  a  photograph  and  a  letter." 

' 'Better  and  better,"  thought  Ethel — "to  be 
invited  to  a  ball  given  to  please  Lady  Gwen- 
dolen Beauclerc !"  But  Gladys  spoke  up  with 
her  usual  simplicity  and  straightforwardness. 

"  I  hardly  think,  being  now  married  to  a 
medical  man  with  his  way  to  make  in  the 
world,  that  I  shall  be  asked  to  many  swell 
balls — and  perhaps  it  is  better  that  I  should 
not  go." 

"  But,  Gladys,  we  went  once  to  swell  balls," 
said  Ethel,  reproachfully. 

"  Oh,  yes,"  answered  Gladys,  "but  that 
was  over  and  done  with  when  I  married  my 


A   STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY  229 

husband  —  and  he  is  well  worth  the  sacrifice. 
Reggie  himself  is  of  good  family,  as  you  know, 
but  he  is  on  that  account  too  proud  to  asso- 
ciate with  people  upon  terms  of  condescen- 
sion —  so,  when  we  were  married,  we  agreed 
to  be  very  careful  about  giving  and  accepting 
invitations." 

"The  social  prejudices  of  you  English  are 
peculiar,"  remarked  Mr.  Romaine.  "  It  is 
from  you  that  we  Virginia  people  inherit  that 
profound  respect  for  land.  I  found,  early  in 
life,  when  I  first  went  to  England  and  when 
Americans  were  scarce  there,  that  it  was  more 
in  my  favor  to  be  a  landholder  and  a  slave- 
owner than  if  I  had  been  worth  millions.  The 
landed  people  in  all  countries  are  united  by  a 
powerful  bond,  which  does  not  seem  to  exist 
with  other  forms  of  property.  But  because 
agriculture  is  perhaps  the  first  and  the  most 
absorbing  and  conservative  of  all  industrial 
callings,  the  people  who  own  land  are  natu- 
rally bound  together  and  appreciative  of  each 
other." 

While  Mr.  Romaine  was  giving  this  little 
disquisition,  he  suffered  furious  pain,  but  the 
only  indication  he  gave  of  it  was  a  furtive 
wiping  of  his  brow. 


230  A   STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY 

"And  the  hold  of  the  land  upon  one  is 
peculiar.  I  could  never  bring  myself  to  part 
with  an  acre  of  it  which  I  had  either  bought 
or  inherited.  Of  course,  during  my  practical 
expatriation  for  many  years,  my  landed  prop- 
erty here  has  suffered.  I  have  often  wondered 
at  myself  for  holding  on  to  it,  when  I  could 
have  invested  the  money  in  an  English  estate 
which  really  would  have  been  much  more 
profitable  —  but  I  could  never  divest  myself 
of  the  feeling  that  the  land  would  yet  draw 
me  back  to  it.  However,"  he  continued,  quite 
gaily,  "it  is  now  so  depreciated,  and  the  new 
system  is  so  impossible  for  the  old  masters  to 
adopt,  that  I  can't  sell  it,  and  I  can't  live  on 
it  —  so  I  shall  be  compelled  to  buy  an  estate 
in  England  in  the  country,  for  a  town  house, 
even  the  Prince's  Gate  one,  is  only  endurable 
for  five  months  in  the  year." 

Ethel's  eyes  glistened  —  a  town  house  at 
Prince's  Gate  —  an  estate  in  the  country ! 
Might  she  not,  after  all,  be  Mrs.  Romaine? 
And  Mr.  Romaine's  position  was  so  much 
better  than  that  of  any  other  American  she 
knew ;  the  others  were  all  striving  for  recog- 
nition, but  Mr.  Romaine  had  had  an  assured 
place  in  English  society  for  a  generation.  He 


A   STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY  231 

had  not  only  dandled  Lady  Gwendolen  Beau- 
clerc,  who  was  a  duke's  daughter,  on  his  knee, 
but  he  had  danced,  at  a  court  ball,  with  the 
Queen  herself,  when  she  was  a  youthful  matron, 
and  he  was  a  slim  young  diplomat.  And  in  a 
flash  of  imagination,  Ethel  saw  herself  be- 
comingly attired  in  widow's  weeds  and  leav- 
ing, by  the  hands  of  a  footman  in  mourning 
livery,  black-bordered  cards,  bearing  the  in- 
scription, "Mrs.  Romaine" 


XI 


;T  last,  Mr.  Romaine  was  conquered 
by  pain,  and  rose  to  leave  the  Chess- 
inghams'  rooms  about  ten  o'clock. 
As  he  said  good-night,  some  strange  impulse 
made  him  take  Ethel's  soft,  white  hand  in  his, 
which  was  deathly  cold  and  clammy.  He 
looked  at  her  in  her  fresh,  wholesome  beauty. 
He  knew  she  was  just  as  designing  in  her 
own  way  as  Madame  de  Fonblanque  —  but 
the  designing  was  different  in  the  two  women, 
according  to  their  race.  Ethel's  was  the 
peculiarly  artless  and  primitive  designing, 
which  is  as  near  as  the  English  character  can 
come  to  deception  —  for  it  really  deceives  no- 
body. Madame  de  Fonblanque's  was  the 
consummate  designing  of  the  Latin  races, 
which  could  deceive  almost  anybody.  At  that 
very  moment  she  was  completely  hoodwink- 
ing the  people  at  Corbin  Hall,  and  Letty,  who 
had  been  disgusted  with  Ethel's  transparent 

232 


A   STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY  233 

devices  to  ensnare  Mr.  Romaine,  never  for  a 
moment  suspected  that  the  graceful  and  tact- 
ful Madame  de  Fonblanque's  "business"  with 
Mr.  Romaine  was  an  attempt  to  entrap  him  of 
a  nature  much  more  desperate  and  barefaced 
than  Ethel  would  have  dreamed  of. 

But  as  Mr.  Romaine  looked  into  Ethel's 
rosy,  fresh  face,  he  saw  a  great  deal  of  good 
there.  She  would  not  bedevil  him  as  the 
French  woman  had  done.  She  was  amiable 
even  in  her  disappointments,  and  if  things  had 
been  otherwise,  and  she  could  have  shared 
with  him  the  town  house,  and  the  country 
house,  and  the  carriage,  would  have  tended 
him  faithfully  and  kindly.  Some  dim  idea  of 
rewarding  her  by  making  her  an  offer  as 
soon  as  he  was  clear  of  the  French  woman 
dawned  upon  his  mind.  Ethel,  for  her  part, 
read  a  new  look  of  gentleness  in  his  expres- 
sive black  eyes  —  and  his  hand-clasp  was  pos- 
itively tender.  But  his  pain  showed  in  his 
glance  —  there  was  something  agonizing  in 
his  eyes  as  Ethel's  met  his.  And  fascinated  by 
them  she  gazed  into  them  with  a  strange  and 
pathetic  feeling  that  it  was  not  "good-night" 
she  was  saying,  but  "  good-by."  Mr.  Ro- 
maine himself  had  something  of  this  feeling 


234  A    STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY 

—  and  so  for  a  full  minute  they  stood  hand 
in  hand,  and  quite  silent.  Mrs.  Chessingham 
moved  away  judiciously  —  and  did  not  return 
until  the  door  closed  behind  Mr.  Romaine. 
Ethel -stood  in  the  same  spot,  with  a  pained 
face. 

"  Do  you  know,  Gladys,  I  had  a  queer  feel- 
ing just  now  —  as  if  Mr.  Romaine  were  really 
ill,  and  might  die  at  any  time  ?  And  all  the 
time  we  have  looked  upon  him  as  a  hypo- 
chondriac." 

"  Reggie  says  if  anybody  really  expected 
Mr.  Romaine  to  die  he  would  live  forever.  But 
I  have  not  heard  him  say  he  was  ill,  and  I  am 
sure  Reggie  does  not  suspect  it.  And,  Ethel 
dear,  I  should  n't  be  surprised  if,  after  all,  that 
house  at  Prince's  Gate  should  be  yours." 

"/  should  be,"  answered  Ethel,  "but  if  it 
ever  is,  I  promise  to  be  kind  to  the  old  gentle- 
man." 

Bridge  had  met  "the  old  gentleman  "just 
outside  the  door,  and  had*  gone  with  him  to  the 
library,  where  he  sat  within  easy  call.  Mr. 
Romaine,  seated  at  his  table,  after  a  while 
seemed  to  recover  from  his  paroxysm  of  pain. 
He  unlocked  a  drawer  and  took  out  his  will, 
which  he  read  over,  smiling  all  the  time  —  he 


A   STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY  235 

seemed  to  regard  it  as  a  very  facetious  docu- 
ment. Then  he  added  something  to  it.  He 
had  a  few  valuable  diamonds  which  he  had 
collected  for  no  particular  purpose  some  years 
before,  and  he  thought  that  Ethel  Maywood 
might  as  well  have  them.  And  then  he  wrote 
his  offer  to  Madame  de  Fonblanque,  and  sealed 
and  addressed  it.  It  seemed  to  give  him 
such  acute  pleasure  that  he  almost  forgot  his 
pain.  He  smiled,  his  black  eyes  sparkled, 
he  smoothed  his  mustache  coquettishly,  and 
thought  to  himself: 

"  Checkmated,  by  Jove  !  " 

It  was  then  near  twelve  o'clock,  and  he  rang 
for  Bridge  and  went  to  his  bedroom. 

The  man  undressed  him  and  put  him  to  bed, 
and  then  Mr.  Romaine  said  casually : 

"  You  had  better  sit  in  this  room  to-night." 

Even  with  this  servant,  who  knew  the  whole 
secret  of  his  ailments,  Mr.  Romaine  main- 
tained a  systematic  kind  of  deceit  which  did 
not  deceive. 

Bridge  stirred  the  fire  into  a  ruddy  blaze, 
and  sat  down  by  it  to  doze.  Occasionally  he 
rose  and  went  toward  the  luxurious  bed,  where 
Mr.  Romaine  lay  with  wide-open,  staring  eyes, 
and  every  few  moments  he  wanted  something 


236  A    STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY 

done  for  him.  This  alarmed  Bridge,  but  he 
dared  not  show  his  uneasiness.  At  last,  about 
two  o'clock  in  the  morning,  when  he  had  given 
up  all  attempts  at  dozing,  he  heard  a  sound 
which  made  him  jump.  It  was  a  slight  groan. 

In  all  the  sixteen  years  that  he  had  served 
Mr.  Romaine  he  had  never  known  from  him 
the  slightest  sign  that  pain  was  victor.  Bridge 
fairly  ran  to  the  bed  at  this. 

"What's  the  matter?"  sternly  asked  Mr. 
Romaine. 

"  Did  n't  I  hear  you  groan,  sir?  " 

"Of  course  not — Bridge,  you  are  in  your 
dotage." 

Bridge  went  back  to  his  place.  In  ten  min- 
utes came  another  groan  —  and  another. 

He  rose  and  went  to  the  bedside  again. 

"  Mr.  Romaine,  I  'm  a-goin'  for  Mr.  Chess- 
ingham.  I  can't  stand  this  no  longer." 

"  I  should  think  if  I  could  stand  it,  you 
could.  " 

"  No,  sir.  Can't  nobody  stand  what  you 
can  stand,  and  I  'm  a-goin'  for  Mr.  Chessing- 
ham. " 

"  If  you  dare,"  said  Mr.  Romaine. 

Bridge  moved  toward  the  door.  By  a  tre- 
mendous effort  Mr.  Romaine  rose  up  in  bed, 


A    STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY  237 

and  seizing  a  carafe  of  water  from  the  table 
at  his  side,  sent  it  whizzing  after  Bridge.  It 
missed  its  target  by  a  very  close  shave,  indeed. 

"  Next  time,"  said  Mr.  Romaine,  "  I  will  aim 
better." 

Bridge  returned  to  his  seat  by  the  fire. 

All  night  the  struggle  went  on.  Mr.  Ro- 
maine writhed  in  agony,  but  the  determination 
to  disappoint  Bridge  brought  him  out  alive. 
When  morning  broke,  the  worst  was  over,  and 
he  seemed  as  likely  to  live  as  he  had  done  at 
any  time  since  Bridge  first  knew  him.  But 
the  unhappy  valet  showed  the  terrible  expe- 
rience he  had  been  through  with,  and  his  pallid 
face  and  nervous  hands  brought  a  grim  smile 
to  Mr.  Romaine's  face. 

About  ten  o'clock  Mr.  Romaine  announced 
that  he  would  rise  and  dress,  having  made, 
many  years  before,  a  secret  resolution  that  he 
would  die  with  his  boots  on.  Bridge,  com- 
pletely subdued,  assisted  at  this  toilet,  and 
helped  him  into  the  library. 

While  shaving  him,  though,  Mr.  Romaine 
said,  crossly : 

"  You  are  so  afraid  I  am  dying  that  you  '11 
probably  cut  my  throat  out  of  pure  nervous- 
ness. I  have 'half  a  mind  to  send  for  that  black 


238  A   STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY 

barber  at  Corbin  Hall,  who  can  give  you  points 
on  shaving." 

Bridge  was  so  frightened  and  uneasy  about 
Mr.  Romaine's  condition  that  he  did  not  even 
resent  this  slur. 

It  was  still  intensely  cold  and  snowing.  But 
the  roaring  fire  and  heavy  curtains  made  the 
room  deliciously  comfortable.  Chessingham 
always  came  to  Mr.  Romaine  at  eleven  — 
and  on  this  particular  morning  he  found 
Mr.  Romaine  in  his  usual  place  before  the 
great,  cheery  fireplace.  But  he  undoubtedly 
looked  ill. 

"  What  sort  of  a  night  did  you  have  ?  "  was 
the  young  doctor's  first  inquiry. 

"  Only  fairly  good,"  replied  Mr.  Romaine, 
and  then  went  on  with  great  seriousness  to 
describe  a  multitude  of  trifling  symptoms,  such 
as  any  imaginative  person  can  conjure  up  at 
any  moment. 

"  The  fact  is, —  to  be  perfectly  candid  with 
you," — said  Chessingham,  who  was  a  con- 
scientious man,  "  if  you  allow  yourself  to  dwell 
upon  these  trifling  ailments  they  will  entail 
real  suffering  upon  you.  Try  and  forget 
about  your  stiff  shoulder,  and  your  neuralgic 
headache,  and  that  sort  of  thing." 


A   STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY  239 

"  But  my  dear  fellow,"  answered  Mr.  Ro- 
maine,  with  a  flash  of  humor  in  his  black  eyes, 
"you  know  it  is  my  infirmity  to  exaggerate 
my  aches  and  pains.  Last  night,  for  what  I 
acknowledge  was  a  mere  trifle,  I  actually  lay 
in  my  bed  and  groaned."  This  was  for  Bridge's 
benefit,  who  was  putting  on  Mr.  Romaine's 
immaculate  boots  at  that  moment. 

Chessingham,  however,  did  not  know  exact- 
ly what  to  make  of  Mr.  Romaine's  statement. 
His  practised  eye  saw  that  something  was  the 
matter.  But  if  Mr.  Romaine  refused  to  tell 
the  doctor  whom  he  hired  to  take  care  of  his 
health  what  ailed  him,  the  doctor  was  not  to 
blame.  Chessingham  went  back  to  his  part 
of  the  house,  much  puzzled  and  deeply  an- 
noyed. 

"  Do  you  know,"  he  said  to  his  wife,  "  I 
doubt  very  much  if  I  did  a  wise  thing  in  ac- 
cepting Mr.  Romaine's  offer  to  stay  with  him. 
My  object,  of  saving  enough  from  my  salary  to 
start  me  in  London,  will  be  attained.  But 
suppose  Mr.  Romaine  should  die  of  some  dis- 
ease that  he  has  concealed  from  me  —  my  pro- 
fessional reputation  would  be  hurt." 

Gladys  said  some  comforting  words,  and 
told  him  about  Mr.  Romaine's  plans  for  buy- 


240  A   STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY 

ing  an  estate  in  England,  the  Prince's  Gate 
house,  the  impending  ball,  etc.  At  every  word 
she  said,  Chessingham  looked  more  and  more 
gloomy. 

"Very  bad,  very  bad,"  he  said.  "Worse 
and  worse.  He  must  be  very  ill,  indeed,  if  he 
thinks  it  necessary  to  talk  that  way." 

Gladys  laughed  at  Chessingham's  interpre- 
tation of  Mr.  Romaine's  remarks,  and  reminded 
him  of  his  oft-repeated  prediction  that  Mr. 
Romaine  would  live  to  bury  all  of  them. 

"  It  is  simply  the  same  old  puzzle,"  he  said 
at  last,  impatiently.  "  I  thought  heretofore 
that  nothing  ailed  him  except  his  diabolically 
ingenious  imagination.  Now,  I  believe  that 
everything  ails  him  —  but  I  cannot  tell." 

The  day  passed  on  with  leaden  feet  to  Mr. 
Romaine,  sitting,  suffering  and  smiling,  in  his 
easy  chair.  At  six  o'clock,  he  called  for  Bridge 
to  dress  him  for  the  evening  as  usual.  Bridge, 
thoroughly  frightened,  turned  pale  at  this. 

"  Mr.  Romaine,"  he  said,  pleadingly,  "  I  'm 
afraid,  sir,  it  '11  —  be  the  death  of  you." 

"  You  '11  be  the  death  of  me  another  way," 
vigorously  responded  Mr.  Romaine.  "  You  '11 
enrage  me  so  that  I  '11  break  a  blood  vessel." 

Bridge  went  and  got  the  necessary  things, 


A   STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY  241 

and  Mr.  Romaine  made  a  ghastly  toilet.  He 
was  always  particular  about  the  tying  of  his 
white  cravat,  and  on  this  especial  evening  al- 
most took  poor  Bridge's  head  off  and  ruined 
four  ties  before  onewasdonetosuit  him.  When 
he  got  through,  he  was  gasping  for  breath, 
but  perfectly  undaunted. 

The  nervous  apprehension  of  the  young 
doctor  about  Mr.  Romaine  communicated  itself 
to  everybody  at  Shrewsbury.  They  all,  from 
the  Chessinghams  and  Miss  Maywood  down 
to  the  very  house  dogs,  that  whined  in  their 
loneliness  and  imprisonment  to  the  house,  felt 
as  if  something  ghastly  and  terrible  was  de- 
scending with  the  night.  All  except  Mr.  Ro- 
maine himself,  who  maintained  an  uncanny 
sort  of  gaiety  all  day  long,  and  who,  every 
time  Chessingham  visited  him,  was  found 
cackling  over  some  humorous  journals  that 
had  arrived  a  day  or  two  before.  But  the 
young  doctor  could  not  quite  appreciate  the 
funny  cartoons  and  lively  jokes,  and  his  grave 
face  seemed  to  afford  Mr.  Romaine  much  sat- 
urnine amusement. 

The  day  that  was  so  long  at  Shrewsbury 
was  very  short  at  Corbin  Hall.  The  Colonel 
was  simply  delighted  with  Madame  de  Fon- 

16 


242  A    STRANGE,  SAD    COMEDY 

blanque,  and  harangued  to  Letty  privately 
upon  Romaine's  deuced  unchivalric  conduct 
to  a  noble,  attractive,  and  blameless  woman. 
This  excellent  man  had  accepted  Madame  de 
Fonblanque  at  her  face  value.  Letty  was 
more  worldly  wise  than  the  Colonel,  but 
she,  too,  had  fallen  a  victim  to  Madame  de 
Fonblanque's  charms  and  was  only  too  ready 
to  think  Mr.  Romaine  a  brute. 

After  a  delightful  day,  spent  chiefly  in  the 
comfortable  old  library,  where  they  could  bid 
defiance  to  the  cold  and  snow  without,  a 
wholly  unexpected  visitor  turned  up  just  at 
nightfall.  A  loud  knock  at  the  front  door, 
much  yelping  of  dogs  and  stamping  of  booted 
feet  announced  an  arrival. 

There  had  been  an  understanding  that  Sir 
Archy  was  to  repeat  his  visit  later  in  the 
winter.  He  was  liable  to  arrive  at  any  day, 
and  when  the  commotion  in  the  large  and 
dusky  hall  was  heard,  the  Colonel  only  voiced 
the  general  impression  of  the  group  around 
the  library  fire  when  he  said: 

"  It  is  no  doubt  our  kinsman,  Sir  Archibald." 
But  it  was  not  "  Sir  Archibald"  —  and  the 
next  minute  Farebrother  came  walking  in,  as 
if  he  had  just  been  around  the  corner.  His 


A   STRANGE,  SAD    COMEDY  243 

face  was  ruddy  with  the  biting  wintry  air,  and 
his  eyes  were  bright. 

The  Colonel  was  openly  charmed  to  see 
him ;  so  was  Miss  Jemima,  and  Letty's  face 
turned  such  a  rosy  red  that  it  told  a  little 
story  of  its  own.  Farebrother  explained  that 
he  was  on  his  way  home  from  the  South  on 
a  professional  trip,  and  had  written  that  he 
would  stop  over  two  or  three  days  at  Corbin 
Hall.  His  letters  had  not  been  received  — 
the  mails  being  conducted  upon  a  happy-go- 
lucky  schedule  in  that  part  of  the  world  —  and 
on  finding  the  river  closed  by  ice  when  he  left 
the  railway  twenty-five  miles  away,  he  had 
hired  horses  and  had  driven  the  distance  that 
day  in  spite  of  the  storm. 

It  was  certainly  good  to  see  him  —  he  was 
so  cheerful,  so  manly,  so  full  of  fresh  and 
breezy  life.  When  he,  as  it  were,  was  drag- 
ged into  the  library  by  the  Colonel,  Madame 
de  Fonblanque  was  not  present — she  had 
gone  to  her  room  for  a  little  rest  before  sup- 
per. In  a  little  while  the  Colonel  began  to 
tell  about  her  —  and  once  started  on  a  theme, 
he  could  not  resist  airing  his  opinion  of  "  Ro- 
maine's  utter  want  of  courtesy  and  considera- 
tion for  a  woman." 


244  A   STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY 

Farebrother's  countenance  was  a  study 
during  all  this.  When  the  Colonel  had  left 
the  room,  he  turned  to  Letty  and  said,  half 
laughing  as  he  spoke,  "  Is  it  possible  that 
Colonel  Corbin  picked  up  Madame  de  Fon- 
blanque  at  the  river  landing  and  brought  her 
here  to  stay  until  she  chooses  to  quit  ?  " 

"  Of  course,  "answered  Letty,  tartly.  "  What 
else  was  there  left  to  do  ? " 

A  great  part  of  Farebrother's  enjoyment 
of  his  Corbin  Hall  friends  consisted  in  their 
simplicity  and  the  number  of  hearty  laughs 
they  afforded  him. 

"  I  declare,  Miss  Corbin,"  he  exclaimed, 
after  indulging  himself  in  a  masculine  ha-ha, 
"  it  's  a  great  thing  to  know  a  place  where  one 
can  get  a  new  sensation.  It  can  always  be 
had  in  Virginia.  You  are  certainly  the  sim- 
plest people  about  some  things  and  the 
shrewdest  about  others  I  ever  saw." 

"Thank you, "answered  Letty, smiling,  "but, 
please,  as  I  am  not  quite  a  woman  of  the  world 
yet  —  tell  me  what  is  the  matter  with  Madame 
de  Fonblanque  ? " 

"  Nothing  on  earth  that  I  know  of.  But 
there  is  room  for  suspicion  in  everybody's 
mind  who  knows  the  world.  What  is  her 


A   STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY  245 

mysterious  business  with  Mr.  Romaine?  Likely 
as  not,  blackmail." 

Letty  jumped  as  Farebrother  said  this ;  for 
at  that  moment  the  door  opened  and  Madame 
de  Fonblanque  entered. 

Within  ten  minutes  after  her  introduction  to 
Farebrother,  Letty  saw  a  subtile  change  in  her. 
She  exchanged  her  charming  candor  and 
frank  personal  conversation  for  the  guarded 
manner  of  a  woman  who  knows  a  good  deal 
about  this  wicked  world,  and  she  conversed  upon 
the  safest  and  most  general  subjects.  When 
the  Colonel  returned  they  all  went  in  to  supper, 
which  boasted  seven  different  kinds  of  bread, 
served  by  Dad  Davy  with  his  grandest  flour- 
ishes. But  the  Colonel's  delightful  assumption 
that  Madame  de  Fonblanque  would  be  their 
guest  for  at  least  a  month,  and  would  probably 
return  in  the  autumn,  "  when  the  climate  of 
old  Virginia,  madam,  is  truly  glorious  and  life- 
giving,"  did  not  meet  with  the  same  enthusi- 
astic acceptance  from  Madame  de  Fonblanque 
as  it  had  done  at  dinner. 

The  truth  was,  with  Farebrother's  keen  eyes 
upon  her,  and  his  polite  but  guarded  manner 
toward  her,  she  was  dealing  with  a  different 
person  from  the  innocent  old  Colonel  and  the 


246  A    STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY 

unsuspicious  Letty.  The  conversation  turned 
upon  Mr.  Romaine.  The  Colonel  glowered 
darkly,  and  growled  below  his  breath  that 
Romaine,  with  age  and  eccentricities,  was  be- 
coming intolerable.  Madame  de  Fonblanque 
shrugged  her  shoulders. 

"I  hope  none  of  you  will  be  so  unhappy  as  to 
have  business  transactions  with  Mr.  Romaine. 
You  will  certainly  find  him  a  very  difficult 
person."  She  said  Farebrother  seemed  to 
be  the  only  friend  that  Mr.  Romaine  had  at 
the  table. 

"  There  's  really  a  great  deal  that  is  engag- 
ing and  even  admirable  about  him,"  he  said. 
"He  is  a  man  of  great  natural  astuteness,  and 
if  he  took  a  stand  he  would  be  apt  to  know 
his  ground  well,  so  that  he  could  hold  it." 

Madame  de  Fonblanque  flashed  a  look  at 
Farebrother,  which  he  met  with  a  cool  smile. 
She  knew  that  he  suspected  her,  and  he  knew 
that  she  knew  he  suspected  her.  Her  sur- 
roundings were  entirely  novel  to  her;  her 
hosts  were  like  the  old  provincial  gentry  in 
the  remote  corners  of  France,  and  such  people 
are  always  much  alike,  and  easy  to  hoodwink. 
She  was  grateful  to  them  for  their  kindness, 
and  had  no  thought  of  deceiving  them  any 


A    STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY  247 

more  than  was  necessary.  But  Farebrother 
was  a  type  of  man  that  she  knew  all  about ; 
well  learned  in  the  ways  of  the  world,  super- 
latively honest,  but  fully  able  to  protect  him- 
self against  scamps  of  either  sex.  She  won- 
dered if  he  had  not  heard  some  talk  about  the 
affair  between  Mr.  Romaine  and  herself —  and 
at  that  very  moment,  she  was  almost  overcome 
by  chagrin  and  disappointment.  She  was  des- 
perately in  need  of  money,  despite  her  fur  cloak 
and  her  expensive  finery,  and  she  had  felt 
from  the  moment  Mr.  Romaine  spoke  that 
there  was  not  the  slightest  chance  of  her  get- 
ting any  money  from  him.  She  wanted  to 
write  to  England  and  consult  her  lawyer  there 
before  taking  any  further  steps,  and  it  had 
occurred  to  her,  as  the  most  convenient  ar- 
rangement, to  await  his  reply  at  Corbin  Hall. 
And  besides,  what  a  rage  it  would  put  Mr. 
Romaine  in  !  But  if  this  robust  and  slightly 
bold  person,  with  his  cheerful  manner  and  his 
alert  blue  eyes,  were  to  be  there,  Madame  de 
Fonblanque  would  rather  be  somewhere  else. 
The  Colonel  was  much  puzzled  because 
Madame  de  Fonblanque  and  Farebrother 
were  not  hail-fellow-well-met,  and  felt  very 
much  as  if  Farebrother  were  guilty  of  a  want 


248  A    STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY 

of  chivalry  —  but  still,  there  was  nothing  to 
take  hold  of,  for  he  was  perfectly  courteous  to 
her.  But  she  had  nothing  more  to  say  about 
her  intimacy  with  the  old  royalist  families,  and 
when  Farebrother  boldly  avowed  himself  a 
firm  believer  in  the  French  republic,  Madame 
de  Fonblanque  did  not  sigh  and  say,  "Ah,  if 
you  had  ancestors  who  died  for  Louis  and 
Charles  and  Louis  Philippe,  you  would  not 
love  the  republic,"  as  she  had  done  when 
Letty  advanced  the  same  view.  In  short, 
Madame  de  Fonblanque  had  met  her  match. 

As  soon  as  supper  was  over  she  excused 
herself  and  went  to  her  room  for  an  hour  or 
two.  She  really  felt  depressed  and  unequal 
to  keeping  up  the  strain  any  longer  at  that 
time.  The  Colonel  tramped  down  to  the 
stable  in  the  snow,  to  see  that  Tom  Batter- 
cake  had  made  the  horses  comfortable  for  the 
night ;  and  Miss  Jemima  always  remained  an 
hour  in  the  dining  room  after  every  meal,  in 
close  confabulation  with  the  cook.  Letty  and 
Farebrother  went  alone  to  the  library. 

The  lamps  were  lighted,  but  the  fire  needed 
a  vigorous  poking,  which  Letty  proceeded  to 
administer,  going  down  on  her  knees.  Fare- 
brother,  who  knew  better  than  to  interfere, 


A   STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY  249 

stood  by  the  hearth  watching  her.  When  she 
had  got  through,  he  suddenly  went  up  close 
to  her  and  caught  her  hands  in  his. 

"  Letty,"  he  said,  in  a  firm  and  serious  voice 
that  she  had  never  heard  him  use  before, 
"  do  you  know  what  I  came  here  for?  " 

In  an  instant  she  knew.  But  the  know- 
ledge staggered  her.  The  idea  that  Fare- 
brother  would  take  the  bit  between  his  teeth 
and  break  through  all  her  maze  of  little  co- 
quetries like  that  had  never  dawned  upon  her. 
In  another  minute  he  had  made  his  meaning 
so  plain  to  her  that  there  was  no  evading  it. 

For  the  first  time  Farebrother  saw  a  fright- 
ened look  come  into  her  clear  eyes.  She 
turned  pale,  but  she  made  no  effort  to  escape 
from  him.  He  told  her  that  he  loved  her 
well,  with  the  manly  force  and  directness  that 
women  like,  and  Letty  stammered  some  sweet, 
incoherent  answer  which  revealed  that  she 
too  knew  the  exaltation  of  life's  great  fever. 
All  her  pretty  airs  and  graces  dropped  from 
her  in  a  moment — she  stood  trembling,  and 
unconsciously  returned  the  clasp  of  Fare- 
brother's  strong  hands,  like  some  weak  crea- 
ture holding  desperately  to  one  that  is  all 
steadfastness.  Farebrother  could  not  recall 


250  A    STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY 

afterward  one  word  that  he  had  said ;  he  only 
remembered  that  he  felt  as  if  they  two  stood 
alone  on  some  cloud-capped  peak,  the  whole 
world  vanished  from  their  sight,  but  sunshine 
above  them  and  all  around  them. 

Two  tears  dropped  from  Letty's  eyes,  she 
knew  not  why,  and  Farebrother  consoled  her, 
for  what  he  did  not  know — and  they  drank 
the  wine  of  life  together.  But  after  a  while 
they  came  from  their  own  heaven  down  to  a 
real  world  that  was  scarcely  less  beautiful  to 
them. 

Almost  the  first  rational  question  Farebro- 
ther asked  her  was  —  "And  how  about  that 
good-looking  villain  of  an  Englishman  ?  " 

"My  cousin  Archibald?  Why,  he  never 
asked  me  to  be  Lady  Corbin." 

"  Thank  the  Lord."  There  was  a  good 
deal  more  sincerity  in  this  thanksgiving  than 
might  have  been  suspected. 

"  Do  you  think  I  would  have  been  dazzled 
by  his  title  and  money?"  asked  Letty, 
offended. 

"  No,  because  you  don't  know  anything 
about  either  money  or  titles.  You  are  a 
very  clever  girl,  my  dear,  but  you  are  very 
unsophisticated,  so  far.  I  believe,  though,  he 


A    STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY  251 

would  have  to  come  down  here  among  you 
quaint  Virginia  people  to  find  any  girl  who 
would  n't  take  him.  And  the  sinner  is  a 
deuced  fine  fellow — that  I  must  admit." 

"  I  dfo/want  the  honor  and  glory  of  refus- 
ing him,"  Letty  admitted,  candidly,  "but  he 
never  gave  me  the  chance,  more  's  the  pity." 

Farebrother  burst  into  a  ringing  laugh. 
Letty's  ideas  on  the  subject  of  love  and  court- 
ship had  a  unique  and  childish  candor  which 
delighted  a  man  who  knew  as  much  about 
this  ridiculous  old  planet  as  Farebrother. 

Their  love  making  was  cut  short  by  the 
Colonel's  and  Miss  Jemima's  entrance.  Col- 
onel Corbin  at  once  engaged  Farebrother  in 
a  red-hot  political  discussion.  The  Colonel 
was  a  believer  in  states'  rights  to  the  point  of 
not  believing  in  a  central  government  at  all, 
and  Letty  ably  assisted  him  by  ready  refer- 
ences to  the  Constitution  of  the  United  States. 
But  Farebrother  was  a  match  for  them  both, 
and  argued  that  Washington,  Hamilton,  and  a 
great  many  of  the  fathers  wanted  a  central 
government  a  great  deal  stronger  than  their 
successors  of  to-day  are  prepared  to  accept. 
The  Colonel,  though,  was  rather  disgusted  to 
observe  that  Letty  and  Farebrother  were  half 


252  A    STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY 

laughing  while  they  argued  and  quarrelled, 
and  that  Letty  wore  a  very  sweet  smile  when 
once  or  twice  the  Colonel  was  unhorsed  in  the 
discussion.  From  politics  they  fell  into  talk 
about  Mr.  Romaine,  and  in  the  midst  of  it  a 
tap  came  at  the  door,  and  Madame  de  Fon- 
blanque  entered. 

"  We  were  again  discussing  our  eccentric 
friend  Romaine,  Madame,"  said  the  Colonel, 
anxious  lest  Madame  de  Fonblanque  should 
suppose  that  her  arrival  was  an  interruption. 
"  Mr.  Farebrother  seems  to  take  a  more  in- 
dulgent view  of  him  than  any  of  us  do." 

"  For  my  part,"  answered  Madame  de  Fon- 
blanque, with  a  gesture  of  aversion,  "I  do  not 
hesitate  to  say  that  I  dislike  Mr.  Romaine 
very  much.  I  cannot  deny  that  he  is  a 
gentleman — " 

"Technically,  my  dear  madam — techni- 
cally—" 

"  —  But  I  believe,  if  he  were  to  die  to- 
morrow, he  would  not  leave  behind  him  one 
heart  to  ache  for  him." 

Just  then  the  door  opened,  and  Dad  Davy 
presented  a  solemn,  scared  face. 

"  Marse  Colonel,"  he  said,  "  dee  done  sont 
dat  white  man,  Dodson,  f'um  Shrewsbury,  an' 


A   STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY  253 

he  say  Mr.  Romaine  mighty  sick  an'  dee  'feerd 
he  gwine  die,  and  he  want  Madame  Fire- 
block  —  or  whatever  she  name  —  ter  come 
right  away.  Dee  got  a  kerridge  and  hosses 
out  d'yar  and  de  white  man  k'yarn  leave  'em." 

A  sudden  chill  and  silence  fell  upon  them 
all  at  this.  Mr.  Romaine  must  indeed  be  dy- 
ing if  he  sent  for  Madame  de  Fonblanque. 

So  terrible  and  so  piteous  is  death  that 
every  one  of  them,  who  a  moment  before  had 
been  discussing  the  dying  man  with  severity, 
felt  that  he  or  she  would  do  much  to  save  him. 
Even  Madame  de  Fonblanque  turned  pale. 

"  Of  course,  I  will  go,"  she  said,  "perhaps 
he  wants  my  forgiveness  —  or  to  repair  the 
injury  he  has  done  me." 

She  went  hastily  up-stairs,  Letty  with  her, 
to  put  on  her  wraps  to  go  to  the  house  from 
which  only  a  few  hours  before  she  had  been 
ignominiously  shown.  The  Colonel  would 
by  no  means  allow  her  to  go  alone,  and  when 
she  came  down,  she  found  him  with  his  great- 
coat on,  and  a  large  pair  of  "  gambadoes " 
strapped  around  his  legs  to  protect  his 
trousers,  in  case  he  should  have  to  get  out  on 
the  road  in  the  snow  and  slush.  In  a  few 
moments,  they  were  on  their  way  in  the  bit- 


254  A    STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY 

ter   night  toward   Shrewsbury,  the  Colonel's 
saddle  horse  following  the  carriage. 

Letty  and  Farebrother  and  Miss  Jemima, 
sitting  in  the  library,  determined  to  wait  until 
midnight,  certainly,  for  some  news  of  the 
dying  man  or  the  Colonel's  return.  In  spite 
of  the  happiness  of  the  lovers,  there  was  a 
cloud  upon  Farebrother  and  Letty.  Not  a 
word  was  said  about  Mr.  Romaine's  will.  All 
of  them  were  more  or  less  skeptical  about  it, 
but  still  his  death  was  deeply  impressive  to 
them.  At  one  o'clock,  they  were  still  sitting 
there,  talking  gravely,  when  they  heard  the 
returning  carriage,  and  presently  the  Colonel 
stalked  solemnly  in,  and  Madame  de  Fon- 
blanque  in  much  agitation  with  him. 


XII 

»T  was  only  four  miles  to  Shrews- 
bury, and  Dodson  did  not  spare 
the  horses,  but  it  took  them  an 
hour  to  make  it,  and  it  was  ten  o'clock  before 
they  drew  up  to  the  door.  Madame  de  Fon- 
blanque  had  remained  perfectly  silent  during 
the  drive.  But  the  Colonel,  remembering  that 
he  must,  of  necessity,  soon  go  the  perilous 
way  that  Mr.  Romaine  was  now  traversing, 
was  all  remorse.  He  reproached  himself  for 
his  estrangement  from  Mr.  Romaine,  and  re- 
membered only  their  boyhood  together,  when 
they  had  been  really  fond  of  one  another. 

As  the  carriage  crunched  along  the  drive 
across  the  lawn,  the  house  door  opened,  and 
Mrs.  Chessingham  appeared.  The  Colonel 
assisted  Madame  de  Fonblanque  up  the  steps, 
and  in  the  full  glare  of  the  light  Mrs.  Chess- 
ingham saw  the  woman  that  had  made  such  a 
commotion  the  night  before.  She  was  struck 

255 


256  A    STRANGE,  SAD    COMEDY 

by  the  dignity  of  Madame  de  Fonblanque's 
bearing,  and  could  imagine  how  even  so  fas- 
tidious a  person  as  Mr.  Romaine  might  be 
fascinated  by  her. 

"  He  has  been  asking  for  you  for  the  last 
half  hour,"  she  said,  helping  Madame  de  Fon- 
blanque  off  with  her  wraps,  and  escorting  her 
to  the  door  of  Mr.  Romaine's  library. 

Mr.  Chessingham  came  out  with  a  troubled 
face,  and,  closing  the  door  behind  him,  was 
presented  to  Madame  de  Fonblanque. 

"  Do  you  think  he  is  dying  ? "  she  asked. 

"  Undoubtedly.  And  he  knows  it  himself, 
and  is  perfectly  prepared,  but  when  I  ventured 
to  hint  as  much  to  him,  he  told  me  he  thought 
Carlsbad  was  the  place  for  him,  and  he  was 
going  there  next  summer." 

A  faint  smile  appeared  upon  the  faces  of  all 
three.  Majestic  death  was  at  hand,  but  Mr. 
Romaine  had  to  have  his  quip  with  the  De- 
stroyer before  going  upon  the  great  journey. 

"  And  I  frankly  admit,"  said  Chessingham, 
worried  almost  beyond  bearing,  "  that  Mr. 
Romaine  has  never  yet  told  me  what  ailed 
him,  and  I  do  not  know  any  more  than  you 
do  what  he  is  dying  of.  I  suspect,  of  course 
—  but  it  may  be  one  of  a  half  dozen  things, 


A   STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY  257 

any  one  of  which  would  be  equally  fatal.  He 
will  not  let  me  know  his  pulse,  temperature,  or 
anything,  and  his  perversity  about  his  symp- 
toms is  simply  phenomenal.  He  will  not  even 
be  undressed  and  go  to  bed.  If  you  will 
believe  me,  he  had  his  evening  clothes  put  on 
him,  and  there  he  sits,  dying." 

Madame  de  Fonblanque,  without  another 
word,  advanced  and  opened  the  door  for  her- 
self, shutting  it  carefully  after  her. 

There,  indeed,  sat  Mr.  Romaine  in  his  easy 
chair,  with  his  feet  in  exquisite  dancing  pumps, 
stretched  out  to  the  fire.  His  face  was  ghastly 
white  —  but  as  it  was  always  white,  it  did  not 
make  a  great  deal  of  difference.  His  eyes, 
though,  were  quite  unchanged  —  in  fact,  they 
seemed  to  glow  with  an  added  fire  and  bril- 
liance. Still,  he  was  plainly  dying, 

"  I  came  as  soon  as  you  sent  for  me,"  said 
Madame  de  Fonblanque,  gently.  "  I  want  to 
say  now,  that  if  you  think  I  bear  you  any 
anger  for  anything  you  have  said  or  done  to 
me,  you  are  mistaken.  I  forget  it  all  as  I 
look  at  you." 

"Did  you  think  I  sent  for  you  to  ask  your 
forgiveness  ?  "  asked  Mr.  Romaine,  faintly,  but 
fluently. 
17 


258  A    STRANGE,  SAD    COMEDY 

"  I  can  think  of  no  other  reason." 

"  Then  you  must  be  a  very  unimaginative 
person.  I  sent  for  you  to  punish  you  as  you 
deserve.  It  won't  make  life  any  pleasanter 
for  you  to  know  that  you  helped  me  out  of  it. 
I  have  had,  for  some  years,  as  you  know,  an 
affection  which  the  doctors  told  me  any  agi- 
tation or  distress  might  make  fatal.  I  might 
have  lived  for  years  —  but  your  presence  here 
last  night  was  my  death  blow.  I  don't  care  a 
rush  about  living, —  in  fact,  I  would  rather  die 
than  suffer  as  I  do  now, —  but  I  would  have 
lived  possibly  ten  years  longer,  but  for  you." 

"  Pray  do  not  say  that,"  cried  Madame  de 
Fonblanque,  turning  pale.  "  Think  what  a 
painful  thought  to  follow  one  through  life." 

"That  's  why  I  tell  you." 

"  Pray,  pray  withdraw  it,"  cried  Madame  de 
Fonblanque,  in  tears.  "  I  implore  you." 

"  You  would  not  withdraw  your  demand  for 
one  hundred  thousand  francs.  If  you  had  — 
if  you  had  shown  me  the  slightest  mercy, 
there  is  a  way  by  which  I  might  have  rewarded 
you.  I  could  have  borrowed  a  good  deal  of 
money  upon  some  few  pictures  I  have  in 
Europe.  But  forced  under  the  hammer,  they 


A   STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY  259 

will  not  bring,  with  this  Virginia  land,  more 
than  enough  to  pay  my  debts  and  a  few 
legacies."  He  stopped  a  moment,  out  of 
breath,  and  the  silence  was  only  broken  by 
Madame  de  Fonblanque's  faint  sobs. 

"  Nobody  has  ever  yet  relied  upon  my  gen- 
erosity without  experiencing  it.  But  every- 
body that  has  ever  fought  me,  I  have  made  to 
rue  it,"  he  continued. 

Madame  de  Fonblanque  sank  kneeling  by 
his  chair,  and  wept  nervously. 

"  Will  you  —  forgive  me  ?     You  must." 

"Rubbish!" 

"And  are  you  not  afraid  to  go  into  that 
other  world  with  a  fellow  creature  crying  after 
you  from  this  for  forgiveness  ?  " 

"  Not  a  bit.  I  never  knew  what  fear  was. 
Pain,  instead  of  making  me  fear  death,  has 
rendered  me  totally  indifferent  to  it.  I  am 
astonished  at  myself  now,  that  I  feel  so  little 
apprehension." 

Madame  de  Fonblanque  got  up  from  her 
knees.  Living  or  dying,  he  was  unlike  other 
men. 

"Now,"  said  he,  "  I  want  you  to  make  me  a 
promise.  Dying  people's  requests  are  sacred, 


260  A   STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY 

you  know.  Perhaps  if  you  oblige  me  in  this 
instance,  I  may  oblige  you  later  on.  Will 
you  promise  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  answered  Madame  de  Fonblanque, 
unable  to  say  no. 

"  I  desire  that  you  remain  alone  with  me 
until  I  am  dead.  It  is  coming  now.  I  feel  it." 

Madame  de  Fonblanque  remained  silent  with 
horror.  A  frightful  paroxysm  of  pain  came 
on,  and  after  standing  the  sight  of  him  writhing 
for  a  few  moments,  she  fled  shrieking  from  the 
room. 

An  instant  later  she  returned  with  Chess- 
ingham.  Mr.  Romaine  had  then  recovered 
from  his  spasm  of  pain,  and 'greeted  her  sar- 
castically. 

"  You  have  broken  your  promise,"  he  said. 

Chessingham  came  up  to  him  anxiously. 
He  proposed  a  dozen  alleviations  of  the  pain, 
but  Mr.  Romaine  would  not  agree  to  any. 

"  Look  here,  Chessingham,"  he  said,  "  the 
game  is  up.  I  am  dying,  and  I  might  as  well 
own  it.  I  have  n't  taken  a  dose  of  your  medi- 
cine since  I  employed  you  as  my  doctor.  I  con- 
sulted Chambers  on  the  sly,  and  studied  up 
my  case  myself —  and  I  have  a  whole  pharma- 
copoeia that  you  never  saw  or  heard  of.  It  was 


A    STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY  261 

rather  shabby  of  me,  I  acknowledge ;  but  I 
liked  you  and  thought  you  were  a  capital 
fellow,  and  I  wanted  your  company,  and  the 
only  way  I  could  get  you  was  to  make  you  my 
doctor." 

Chessingham  said  nothing.  He  could  not 
reproach  a  dying  man,  but  his  stern  face  spoke 
volumes. 

"And  you  are  one  of  the  most  honest  fellows 
in  the  world.  Don't  think  I  disbelieve  in  hon- 
esty. I  believe  in  a  great  many  good  things. 
I  even  believe  in  a  Great  First  Cause.  I  have 
only  followed  the  natural  law :  those  that  have 
been  good  to  me,  I  have  been  good  to — 
and  those  that  have  n't  been  good  to  me,  I 
have  taken  the  liberty  of  paying  off  in  this 
world,  for  fear  that  by  some  hocus-pocus  they 
might  sneak  out  of  punishment  in  the  next." 

"  I  want  to  say  one  thing  to  you,"  said  Chess- 
ingham. "  I  never  have  considered  you  a 
bad  man.  But  your  virtues  are  not  common 
virtues,  and  your  faults  are  not  common  faults." 

"  Thank  you,  my  dear  fellow.  It  is  true,  I 
never  could  strike  the  great  vein  of  common- 
place in  anything." 

Then  there  was  a  pause.  Mr.  Romaine, 
though  evidently  suffering,  yet  continued  to 


262  A    STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY 

talk  until  Madame  de  Fonblanque  whispered 
to  Chessingham: 

"  I  believe  he  actually  enjoys  the  situation  ! " 
She  herself  longed  to  leave,  yet  hesitated. 
She  thought  if  she  stayed  that  perhaps  at 
the  end  Mr.  Romaine  might  grant  her  some 
words  of  forgiveness.  She  was  a  superstitious 
woman,  and  Mr.  Romaine  knew  it.  So,  with 
a  white  face,  she  seated  herself  a  little  way 
off,  at  the  side  of  the  fireplace.  Bridge  came 
in  and  out  of  the  room  noiselessly,  his  feet 
sinking  in  the  thick  Turkish  carpet.  The 
room  was  strangely  quiet,  but  the  very  intensity 
of  the  silence  gave  Mr.  Romaine's  voice  and 
quivering  breath  and  faint  sounds  of  pain  a 
fearful  distinctness.  And  even  in  his  extrem- 
ity, the  "situation,"  as  Madame  de  Fonblanque 
called  it,  was  not  without  its  diversion  to  him. 

* 

"  Corbin  came  with  you,  of  course,"  Mr.  Ro- 
maine said  to  Madame  de  Fonblanque  after  a 
while.  He  had  at  last  consented  to  take  a  lit- 
tle brandy,  although  steadily  refusing  any  of 
Chessingham's  medicine,  and  seemed  to  be  re- 
vived by  it.  Then  he  said  to  Chessingham : 

"  Pray,  after  I  am  dead,  give  my  regards  to 
Corbin,  but  don't  let  him  examine  my  coffin 
plate.  I  desire  my  age  put  down  as  fifty-eight, 
and  I  won't  have  one  of  Corbin's  long-winded 


A    STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY  263 

arguments  to  prove  that  I  am  sixty-nine.  Still, 
Corbin  is  a  good  fellow.  But  if  there  were 
many  like  him,  the  rascals  would  soon  have  a 
handsome  majority  everywhere.  And  I  also 
wish  my  regards  given  to  Mrs.  Chessingham 
and  Miss  May  wood,  and  my  apologies  for  dis- 
appointing them  regarding  the  season  in  Lon- 
don. And  also  to  Letty  Corbin,"  and  Mr.  Ro- 
maine  paused,  and  his  face  softened. 

"  Say  to  Jemima  Corbin,  if  I  ever  caused 
her  pain  I  now  ask  her  forgiveness  for  it." 

This  surprised  both  Chessingham  and  Ma- 
dame de  Fonblanque  much,  who  knew  of  no 
reason  why  Mr.  Romaine  should  send  such  a 
message  to  good  Miss  Jemima. 

It  was  now  about  eleven  o'clock.  Mr.  Ro- 
maine was  evidently  going  fast,  but  he  still 
managed  to  resist  being  laid  on  the  sofa. 

"  You  will  last  longer,"  said  Chessingham. 

"  I  don't  care  to  last  any  longer  than  I  can 
help,"  snapped  Mr.  Romaine,  in  what  Fare- 
brother  had  called  his  Romainesque  manner. 

"  My  will  is  in  that  drawer,"  he  said,  with 
some  difficulty.  "  It  will  cause  a  good  deal  of 
surprise,"  and  his  teeth  showed  in  a  ghastly 
smile  between  his  blue  lips,  "  and  also  a  letter 
for  Madame  de  Fonblanque." 

At  the  last  Mr.  Romaine  fell  into  a  stupor. 


264 

Presently  he  opened  his  eyes,  and  looking 
Chessingham  full  in  the  face,  said  in  a  pleasant 
voice,  "  Good-night." 

"  Good-night,"  responded  Chessingham ; 
and  before  the  words  were  out  of  his  mouth 
Mr.  Romaine  had  ceased  to  breathe. 

Madame  de  Fonblanque  rushed  to  the  door, 
as  she  had  been  on  the  point  of  doing  every 
moment  she  had  been  in  the  room.  Bridge 
followed  her,  and  caught  her  out  in  the  hall. 

"  Madam,"  he  said,  "  I  wants  to  say  as  I 
heard  what  Mr.  Romaine  said  to  you  about 
your  givin'  'im  'is  death  blow.  Mr.  Romaine 
has  been  a-dyin'  for  a  month  —  and  it  s'prised 
me  he  lasted  so  long.  I  say  this  because  it  's 
my  dooty." 

"  Thank  you,"  cried  Madame  de  Fon- 
blanque. 

Mrs.  Chessingham,  Colonel  Corbin,  and 
Ethel  Maywood  were  all  gathered  in  the  hall 
when  Chessingham  came  out  with  a  solemn 
face.  Ethel  was  white  and  trembling,  and  felt 
a  strange  grief  at  knowing  that  Mr.  Romaine 
was  no  more.  There  were  no  tears  shed. 
All  of  them  had  at  some  time  received  kind- 
nesses from  Mr.  Romaine,  but  also  all  of  them 
had  experienced  the  iron  hand  under  the 


A   STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY  265 

velvet  glove.  Madame  de  Fonblanque  could 
not  get  away  from  the  house  fast  enough,  and 
so  the  same  carriage  that  had  brought  them 
there  landed  them  at  Corbin  Hall  about  one 
o'clock. 

Farebrother,  Letty,  and  Miss  Jemima  were 
still  up.  The  fire  had  been  kept  going,  al- 
though the  lamp  had  long  since  given  out. 
Colonel  Corbin's  face  told  the  story.  A  pause 
fell,  as  in  the  hall  at  Shrewsbury,  and  in  the 
shadows  Miss  Jemima  wiped  two  tears  from 
her  withered  face.  They  were  the  only  tears 
shed  for  Mr.  Romaine. 

Madame  de  Fonblanque's  nerve  quite  for- 
sook her.  She  felt  that  she  must  get  away 
from  that  place,  so  associated  with  tragic 
things,  or  die.  It  had  suddenly  moderated, 
and  a  warm  rain  had  set  in  by  midnight  that 
was  certain  to  break  up  the  ice  in  the  river. 
She  begged  and  implored  the  Colonel  to  take 
her  to  the  landing  on  the  chance  of  the  boat 
passing.  Colonel  Corbin  could  not  say  no 
to  her  pleading  —  and  so,  in  the  dimness  of 
early  dawn,  she  disappeared  like  a  shadow 
that  had  come  from  another  world  and  had 
gone  back  to  it 


18 


XIII 

S  soon  as  the  funeral  was  over  came 
the  reading  of  the  will.  On  the 
outside  was  the  request,  written  in 
Mr.  Romaine's  own  hand,  that  it  be  read 
by  Chessingham,  whom  he  appointed  his 
executor  in  case  he  died  in  America  —  for 
in  his  own  country  there  was  scarcely  a  per- 
son with  whom  Mr.  Romaine  was  upon  terms 
of  any  close  association.  The  request  was 
also  made  that  Colonel  Corbin  and  Miss  Letty 
Corbin  be  present  when  the  will  was  read, 
and  any  one  else  that  Chessingham  desired. 

On  the  day  following  the  one  when  Mr. 
Romaine  had  been  laid  in  the  old  burying- 
ground  beside  his  fathers,  Chessingham  wrote 
a  note  to  Colonel  and  Miss  Corbin,  inviting 
their  presence  upon  a  certain  day  at  Shrews- 
bury, and  although  Mr.  Romaine  had  not 
mentioned  any  of  his  numerous  tribes  of 
nephews  and  nieces,  Chessingham  scrupulous- 
ly invited  them  all.  Farebrother,  who  found 

266 


A   STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY  267 

it  very  pleasant  lingering  at  Corbin  Hall  as 
Letty's  lover,  of  course  did  not  accompany 
the  Corbins  to  Shrewsbury.  Like  Letty,  he 
would  have  been  pleased  to  have  money 
"honestly  come  by,"  so  to  speak;  but  the 
idea  of  having  it  under  the  circumstances  from 
Mr.  Romaine  appeared  to  him  as  undesirable 
as  it  did  to  her. 

"  And  I  tell  you  now,"  said  Letty,  firmly, 
to  Farebrother,  as  he  stood  on  the  old  porch 
in  the  wintry  sunshine  waiting  for  Dad  Davy 
(who  superseded  Tom  Battercake  on  impor- 
tant occasions  like  this)  with  the  ramshackly 
carriage;  "I  tell  you  now,  I  don't  want  that 
money,  and  I  shall  at  once  consult  a  lawyer 
to  see  if  it  can't  be  turned  over  to  the  people 
it  rightfully  belongs  to.  It  would  make  me 
wretched  to  know  of  those  poor  people  —  I 
know  how  poor  they  are  and  out  at  elbows  — 
actually  in  want,  while  I  should  have  what 
was  their  grandfather's  and  their  uncle's." 

"All  right,"  answered  Farebrother,  "and  I 
would  prefer  that  you  should  have  the  whole 
thing  settled  before  we  are  married,  so  you 
can  act  as  a  perfectly  free  agent.  As  for  me, 
if  I  can  have  you,"  etc.,  etc.,  etc. — which  may 
be  interpreted  in  the  language  of  lovers. 


268  A    STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY 

Arrived  at  Shrewsbury,  it  was  seen  that 
every  relative  of  Mr.  Romaine  had  accepted 
Chessingham's  invitation  and  was  on  hand. 
Letty  had  to  run  the  gantlet  of  their  hostile 
eyes  as  she  entered  the  library,  for  the  great 
affair  had  already  leaked  out.  The  room  looked 
strangely  suggestive  of  Mr.  Romaine.  Letty 
could  scarcely  persuade  herself  that  at  any  mo- 
ment his  slight  figure  and  sparkling  black  eyes 
would  not  appear. 

Mrs.  Chessingham  and  Ethel  were  in  the 
room  by  special  request  of  Colonel  Corbin, 
who  thought  it  a  mark  of  respect.  When  they 
were  all  assembled,  Chessingham,  who  had 
worn  a  very  peculiar  look,  began  to  speak  in 
the  midst  of  a  solemn  silence. 

"As  you  are  perhaps  aware,  our  late  friend, 
Mr.  Romaine,  desired  me  to  act  as  his  execu- 
tor in  case  he  died  in  this  country  —  a  contin- 
gency which  he  seemed  to  think  likely  when 
he  came  here,  less  than  a  year  ago!  In  pur- 
suance of  my  duties,  I  have  examined  his  pa- 
pers, which  are  very  few,  and  find  everything 
concerning  him  to  have  been  in  perfect  order 
for  many  years  past,  so  that  if  he  had  died  at 
any  moment  there  would  have  been  no  diffi- 
culty in  settling  his  affairs.  But  I  soon  discov- 


A    STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY  269 

ered  a  very  important  fact  —  which  is," — here 
he  spoke  with  deliberate  emphasis, — "  that  in- 
stead of  Mr.  Romaine  possessing  a  large  for- 
tune, as  the  world  has  always  supposed,  he  had 
invested  everything  he  had  in  —  annuities  — 
which  gave  him  a  very  large  income  —  but  he 
left  but  little  behind  him." 

A  kind  of  groan  went  round  among  the  poor 
relations.  Letty,  who  understood  quickly  what 
was  meant,  felt  dazed ;  she  did  not  know 
whether  she  was  glad  or  sorry. 

Chessingham  exhibited  some  papers,  show- 
ing, in  Mr.  Romaine's  writing,  the  amounts  of 
various  annuities,  which  aggregated  a  mag- 
nificent income.  Then  came  a  list  of  his  actual 
property,  which  consisted  chiefly  of  the  Shrews- 
bury place  and  the  Virginia  lands,  but  which 
were  heavily  mortgaged.  His  personal  prop- 
erty was  remarkably  small ;  Mr.  Romaine  had 
always  boasted  his  freedom  from  impedimenta. 
And  then  began  the  reading  of  the  will.  It  was 
the  same  brief  document  that  Chessingham 
and  Miss  Maywood  had  witnessed.  Some  of 
the  nieces  and  nephews  got  a  few  thousand 
dollars.  Chessingham  got  his  douceur,  Miss 
Maywood  got  the  diamonds  in  a  codicil  wit- 
nessed by  Bridge  and  Dodson,  and  Letty  was 
19 


2/0  A    STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY 

left  "  residuary  legatee  "  by  a  person  who  had 
nothing  to  give.  When  she  walked  out  of  the 
Shrewsbury  house  she  was  not  any  richer 
than  when  she  went  in  it.  But  before  that 
Colonel  Corbin  had  risen  and  in  a  very  digni- 
fied and  forcible  manner  read  the  correspon- 
dence that  had  passed  between  Mr.  Romaine 
and  himself  and  Letty,  which  showed  conclu- 
sively that  they  were  in  no  way  parties  to  Mr. 
Romaine's  scheme,  but  rather  victims  of  it. 
Then  Chessingham,  replying  to  a  formal  ques- 
tion of  the  Colonel's,  admitted  that  there  would 
be  in  all  probability  not  enough  property  to  pay 
the  legacies  in  full,  and  the  Colonel  and  Letty 
retired,  having  no  further  interest  in  Mr.  Ro- 
maine's affairs. 

When  they  got  home  Farebrother  ran  down 
the  steps  to  meet  them. 

"  I  sha'n't  get  a  penny,  and  I  'm  glad  of  it," 
cried  out  Letty,  from  the  carriage,  before 
Farebrother  could  open  the  door. 

"Wait  until  you  have  struggled  along  in 
New  York  on  four  or  five  thousand  a  year 
before  you  say  that,"  answered  Farebrother 
in  a  gay  whisper  which  quite  escaped  the 
Colonel,  who  knew,  however,  how  the  land 
lay. 


A   STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY  271 

Farebrother  stayed  two  weeks  altogether  at 
Corbin  Hall  on  that  visit ;  and  before  he  left 
Sir  Archibald  Corbin  arrived. 

The  status  of  affairs  looked  decidedly  un- 
pleasant to  Sir  Archy.  After  he  had  been 
there  a  day  or  two,  he  went  for  a  walk  with 
Letty  in  the  woods  —  the  very  path  they  had 
taken  that  autumn  evening  two  months  before 
—  and  Sir  Archy  presently  demanded  to  know 
if  she  was  engaged  to  Farebrother. 

"What  a  very  singular  inquiry,"  replied 
Letty,  haughtily.  ."  Surely  you  can't  expect 
me  to  answer  it." 

"  I  would  scarcely  expect  you  to  hesitate 
about  denying  it  if  it  were  not  true  —  and  if  it 
were  true,  and  you  kept  it  a  secret,  it  would 
be  a  very  grave  reflection  on  you,  which  I 
should  be  loath  to  entertain,"  responded  Sir 
Archy,  with  equal  haughtiness. 

"  A  reflection  on  me  to  be  engaged  to  Mr. 
Farebrother,"  cried  Letty,  whirling  around  on 
him. 

"  I  meant,  of  course,  secretly,"  answered  Sir 
Archy,  stiffly. 

"  Do  you  mean  to  say  that  I  would  be 
guilty  of  the  shocking  indelicacy  of  proclaim- 
ing my  engagement  to  the  world  • —  if  I  were 


272  A    STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY 

engaged  to  Mr.  Farebrother  —  as  if  I  had  just 
landed  a  big  fish  ?  " 

"Our  ideas  of  delicacy  differ  widely.  There 
seems  to  me  an  indelicacy  in  a  secret  en- 
gagement." 

Sir  Archy  was  very  angry  —  but  Letty  was 
simply  boiling  with  rage.  Both  were  right 
from  their  respective  points  of  view,  but  neither 
had  the  slightest  understanding  of  the  other. 

After  that  there  was  no  further  staying  at 
Corbin  Hall  for  Sir  Archy.  He  escorted 
Letty  to  the  door,  and  then  tramped  off  to 
Shrewsbury  and  sent  for  his  luggage. 

The  Chessinghams  remained  at  the  Ro- 
maine  place  for  the  present,  awaiting  their 
speedy  return  to  England. 

Letty  went  into  the  house,  nearly  crying 
with  rage.  Farebrother,  who  was  to  leave  the 
next  day,  met  her  and  received  the  account,  red 
hot,  of  Sir  Archy's  rude  remarks,  with  shouts 
of  laughter  which  very  much  offended  Letty. 

"  I  don't  see  anything  to  laugh  at,"  she 
said,  with  pretty  sullenness. 

"  I  see  everything  to  laugh  at,"  answered 
Farebrother,  going  off  again.  He  did  not 
further  explain  the  joke  to  Letty,  who  never 
quite  fully  comprehended  it. 


A   STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY  273 

Sir  Archy,  stalking  along  toward  Shrews- 
bury, smarting  under  his  disappointment  — 
for  he  really  admired  Letty,  and  had  fully 
meant  to  offer  her  the  chance  of  becoming 
Lady  Corbin  —  yet  felt  a  sort  of  secret  relief. 
Letty  was  the  soul  of  bright  purity,  but  as  Sir 
Archy  philosophically  argued,  no  matter  how 
right  people's  characters  may  be,  if  their  ideas 
are  radically  wrong,  it  sooner  or  later  affects 
their  characters. 

"  And  that  fatal  want  of  prudence,"  reasoned 
this  English-minded  gentleman,  "  this  reck- 
lessness concerning  her  relations  with  men,  is 
a  most  grave  consideration.  She  appears  to- 
tally unable  to  take  a  serious  view  of  anything 
in  the  relations  of  young  men  and  women. 
Life  seems  to  be  to  her  one  long  flirtation. 
And  she  may,  of  course,  be  expected  to  keep 
this  up  after  she  is  married.  On  the  whole, 
although  a  fascinating  creature,  I  should  call 
it  a  dangerous  experiment  to  marry  her." 

So  thought  Sir  Archy  concerning  Letty, 
who  was  of  a  type  that  is  apt  to  develop  into 
the  most  cloying  domesticity. 

Then  his  thoughts  wandered  to  Ethel  May- 
wood.  He  was  too  sincere  and  too  earnest  a 
man  to  cast  his  heart  immediately  at  Ethel's 


274  A    STRANGE,  SAD    COMEDY 

feet  —  but  something  in  his  glance  that  very 
night  made  Ethel  and  the  Chessinghams  think 
that  perhaps,  in  the  end,  Miss  Maywood's 
name  might  be  Lady  Corbin. 

The  first  step  toward  this  followed  some 
days  after.  Sir  Archy  had  continued  to  stay 
at  Shrewsbury,  much  to  Colonel  Corbin's  cha- 
grin. He  had  divined  that  there  had  been  a 
falling  out  of  some  sort  between  Letty  and 
Sir  Archy  —  but  he  was  quite  unable  to  get 
at  the  particulars.  Each  professed  a  willing- 
ness to  make  up,  and  upon  Sir  Archy's  paying 
a  formal  visit  at  Corbin  Hall,  Letty  came 
down  to  see  him  and  they  were  stiffly  polite. 
But  their  misunderstanding  seemed,  as  it  was, 
deep  rooted.  Letty  felt  a  profound  displeasure 
with  a  man  who  could,  even  by  implication, 
accuse  her  of  indelicacy  —  and  Sir  Archy  had 
grave  doubts  upon  the  score  of  Letty's  know- 
ledge of  good  form,  to  put  it  mildly. 

It  was  on  this  subject  that  he  grew  con- 
fidential with  Ethel,  and  made  the  longest 
speech  of  his  life. 

"You  see,"  he  said,  "at  first  I  found  those 
American  young  ladies  who  imitate  English 
girls  rather  a  bore,  as  most  of  us  do.  When 
we  go  in  for  an  English  girl,  we  like  the  real 


A   STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY  275 

thing  —  sweet,  genuine,  and  wholesome.  But 
at  least  the  ideas  of  these  pseudo-English 
girls  are  correct.  They  are  not  flirts" — 
Sir  Archy  classed  flirts  as  the  feminine 
form  of  barnburners  and  horse  thieves — "and 
there  's  nothing  clandestine  in  their  way  of 
arranging  marriages.  They  are  quite  candid 
and  correct  in  that  matter.  They  receive  the 
attentions  of  men  properly,  and  when  an  en- 
gagement is  made,  it  is  duly  and  promptly 
announced.  But  my  cousin,  Miss  Corbin,  has 
the  most  extraordinary  notions  on  the  subject 
of  the  proprieties.  She  goes  according  to  the 
rule  of  contrary.  She  thinks  it  no  harm  to 
make  eyes  at  every  man  she  sees,  without 
caring  a  button  about  any  one  of  them  —  and 
an  engagement  is  a  thing  to  be  concealed  as 
if  it  were  something  to  be  ashamed  of.  I 
confess  it  puzzles  me." 

"  And  it  puzzles  me,  too,"  replied  Ethel. 
"  Of  course  I  know  how  sincerely  high  minded 
Miss  Corbin  is,  but,  like  you,  I  can't  reconcile 
myself  to  her  peculiar  notions.  Do  you  re- 
member the  evening  we  went  to  the  theater 
in  New  York  and  she  wore  that  astonishing 
white  gown  ?  " 

"Yes —  and  uncommonly  pretty  she  looked. 


276  A   STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY 

But  it  was  bad  form  —  decidedly  bad  form  — 
and  she  never  seemed  to  suspect  it.  My 
cousin  is  charming,  but  unusual  and  unac- 
countable." 

Which  Miss  Maywood  felt  a  profound  satis- 
faction in  hearing. 

It  was  a  month  or  two  before  the  Chessing- 
hams  sailed.  Although  Mr.  Romaine's  affairs 
were  so  well  arranged,  the  sale  of  the  landed 
property  could  not  take  place  at  once,  and 
Chessingham  concluded  to  return  to  England, 
and  come  back  in  a  year's  time  to  settle  up 
the  small  estate.  The  more  he  looked  into  it, 
the  more  convinced  he  was  that  Mr.  Romaine's 
residuary  legatee  would  get  nothing,  and 
that  Mr.  Romaine  knew  it;  and  his  object 
was  merely  that  contrary  impulse  and  the 
natural  perversity  and  desire  to  disconcert 
people  which  always  gave  him  acute  delight. 

Colonel  Corbin  and  Letty  were  sincerely 
sorry  to  part  from  the  Chessinghams,  but 
Letty  bore  the  coming  privation  of  Miss 
Maywood's  society  with  the  utmost  fortitude. 
When  they  went  over  to  say  good-by  on  an 
early  spring  afternoon,  Letty  noticed  a  pecu- 
liarly joyous  look  on  Ethel's  fair  face.  In  a 
little  while  she  proposed  a  walk  in  the  old- 


A   STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY  277 

fashioned  garden.  The  two  girls  strolled  to- 
gether down  the  box-edged  walk,  and  passed 
under  the  quaint  old  arbors,  heavy  with  the 
yellow  jessamine,  just  beginning  then  to  show 
the  faintly  budding  leaves.  There  was  some- 
thing melancholy  in  the  scene.  The  place 
had  been  deserted  for  so  long  —  and  it  was 
now  for  sale,  with  the  prospect  of  soon  passing 
into  other  hands.  The  graveyard,  with  its 
high  brick  wall,  was  just  below  the  garden, 
and,  although  she  could  not  see  it,  Letty  was 
conscious  of  a  new  white  tombstone  there  with 
Mr.  Romaine's  name  and  "  aged  58  "  engraved 
upon  it  —  which  last  had  caused  Colonel 
Corbin  much  dissatisfaction.  But  Chessing- 
ham  preferred  to  carry  out  what  he  knew  to 
be  Mr.  Romaine's  wishes  in  the  matter,  and 
believed  that  his  ghost  would  have  walked 
had  his  real  age  been  proclaimed  upon  his 
monument. 

As  soon  as  the  two  girls  were  well  in  the 
garden,  Ethel  began,  with  a  glowing  face : 

."  I  have  had  great  happiness  lately." 

"  Have  you  ?  "  asked  Letty,  sympathetically. 
"What  is  it?" 

"  I  am  engaged  to  Sir  Archibald  Corbin," 
said  Ethel,  looking  into  Letty's  face  with  a 


278  A   STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY 

bright  smile.  Letty  was  so  shocked  by  Miss 
Maywood's  candor  that  she  stood  quite  still, 
and  said  "  Oh !  "  in  a  grieved  voice,  which  Miss 
Maywood  took  to  mean  regret  at  having  lost 
the  prize. 

"  As  everybody  knows  you  are  engaged  to 
Mr.  Farebrother," continued  Ethel,  still  smiling, 
and  twisting  off  a  twig  of  syringa  that  was  at 
hand,  "you  can't  grudge  me  my  good  fortune." 

Grudge  her  her  good  fortune!  And  "  every- 
body "  knowing  she  was  engaged  to  Fare- 
brother,  when  she  had  not  breathed  a  word 
of  it  outside  her  own  family,  albeit  she  had 
half  her  trousseau  finished !  Letty  was  so 
scandalized  by  Miss  Maywood's  brazen  assur- 
ance, as  she  regarded  it,  that  she  could  only 
say,  coldly : 

"  I  do  not  understand  how  '  everybody ' 
can  know  that  I  am  engaged  to  Mr.  Fare- 
brother.  Certainly  I  have  never  mentioned  it, 
and  I  am  sure  that  he  has  n't." 

"  That  's  only  your  odd  Southern  way," 
answered  Ethel,  disapprovingly. 

Curiosity  got  the  better  of  Letty's  disgust, 
and  she  asked,  "How  long  have  you  and  my 
cousin  been  engaged  ?  " 

"  Only  to-day,"  calmly  replied  Ethel.  "  Reg- 


A    STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY  279 

gie  brought  the  letter  from  the  postoffice  this 
morning,  and  I  answered  it  at  once.  I  also 
wrote  to  England,  in  order  to  catch  the  next 
steamer.  Sir  Archy  is  in  New  York,  and  won't 
get  my  letter  for  two  days  perhaps.  Reggie 
and  Gladys  and  I  have  talked  over  the  en- 
gagement a  little  this  afternoon.  I  shall  be 
married  very  quietly  in  the  country  —  we 
have  an  uncle  who  is  a  clergyman,  and  he 
has  a  nice  parish,  and  will  be  glad  to  have  me 
married  from  the  rectory  —  and  Reggie  and 
Gladys  very  sensibly  don't  expect  me  to  marry 
a  baronet  from  their  London  lodgings.  Sir 
Archy  was  very  explicit  in  his  letter  about  our 
future  plans.  He  is  willing  to  spend  a  month 
in  London  this  season,  but  he  has  been  away 
so  much  he  feels  it  necessary  to  be  at  Fox 
Court  in  June  —  and  he  has  taken  a  place  in 
Scotland  from  the  i2th  of  August." 

"  But  suppose  you  did  n't  care  to  go  to 
Scotland  from  the  1 2th  of  August  ?  And  sup- 
pose you  wanted  to  spend  more  than  a  month 
in  London?"  asked  Letty,  much  scandalized  by 
these  cut  and  dried  proceedings. 

"  Of  course  I  should  not  make  the  slightest 
objection  to  any  of  Sir  Archy's  plans,"  replied 
Ethel,  wonderingly. 


280  A    STRANGE,  SAD    COMEDY 

"  And  he  must  have  assumed  a  good  deal," 
suddenly  cried  Letty,  bursting  out  laughing. 

"  He  only  assumed  that  I  would  act  as  any 
other  sensible  girl  would,"  replied  Ethel, 
calmly.  "  Sir  Archy  is  a  baronet  of  good 
family,  suitable  age,  and  excellent  estate.  What 
more  could  a  girl  —  and  a  girl  in  my  position 
—  want?" 

"  Nothing  in  the  world,  I  fancy,"  answered 
Letty,  laughing  still  more ;  and  when  the  two 
girls  had  their  last  interview  they  misunder- 
stood and  disesteemed  each  other  more  than 
at  their  first. 

Driving  home  through  the  odorous  dusk,  in 
the  chaise  by  the  Colonel's  side,  Letty  pon- 
dered over  the  remarkable  ways  of  some 
people.  The  idea  of  a  man  dictating  his  plans 
to  a  woman  before  he  married  her  —  or  after, 
for  that  matter.  Farebrother  had  asked  her 
what  she  would  like,  and  their  plans  were 
made  solely  and  entirely  by  Letty.  "  But  I 
think,"  she  reflected,  as  she  laid  her  pretty 
head  back  in  the  chaise,  "  that  I  would  do 
whatever  he  asked  me  to  do  —  because,  after 
all,  he  is  twice  the  man  that  my  cousin  Archy 
is,  and  deserves  to  be  loved  twice  as  much  — " 
and  "  he  "  meant  Farebrother,  who  was,  at  that 


A   STRANGE,  SAD   COMEDY  281 

very  moment,  working  hard  for  Letty  in  his 
office  on  a  noisy  New  York  thoroughfare. 
And  when  his  work  was  done,  he  turned  for 
refreshment  to  a  photograph  of  her  which  he 
kept  in  that  breast  pocket  reserved  for  such 
articles,  and  gazed  fondly  at  her  face  in  its 
starlike  purity  —  and  then  smiled.  He  never 
looked  at  Letty  or  thought  of  her  that,  along 
with  the  most  tender  respect,  he  did  not  feel 
like  smiling ;  and  Letty  never  could  and  never 
did  understand  why  it  was  that  Farebrother 
found  her  such  an  amusing  study. 


